Just My Luck
by ScribbleWorld
Summary: Harry Potter has the strangest of luck. So naturally, he ends up redoing his 7th year at Hogwarts with his parents in 1977 - three years late, no less! Should Harry stop events from being changed? Does he want to? Pairings: HP/HG, JP/LE, RW/LL
1. Misgivings

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

NOTE: Italics: Thoughts

Also, this will be one of my shortest chapters - more of a preface.

_Chapter One: Misgivings_

Harry Potter was not a normal wizard by any accounts. He was The-Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Conquered, and (more truthfully in his opinion) The-Guy-With-Way-Too-Many-Hyphenated-Names. So he supposed it was to be expected that it was he who was being asked to be the key part in doing something even wizards, who one would expect to be an extremely optimistic people, considered an impossible branch of magic.

"You're kidding, right?" Harry asked in a manner he meant to be rhetorical. However, that was apparently not the correct answer.

"Unlike my predecessor, I am not known to kid, Mr. Potter," Minerva McGonagall replied, her mouth tightening slightly. "This is a serious offer, and I implore you to treat it as such."

"But, but…" Harry stammered, "That's impossible! Everyone knows it's impossible to time travel back more than a day or two, tops-"

"And that was believed to be true until a Mrs Lovegood discovered otherwise. I believe you know her?" Harry's stomach experienced a shrinking feeling.

"Luna?" He asked weakly, eyeing McGonagall with a barely noticeable pleading look in his eye. "You're not honestly telling me you want me to use Luna's unproved spell to take me back almost two thousand years, all to prove that time can be jumped back for more than a few days?" She nodded. However, Harry was not finished with his tirade. "Why not just send me back a week or so? If I get stuck, or if something happens, then at least it won't be catastrophic, and for that matter, why are you asking me?" McGonagall's face expressed a mixture of disappointment, and understanding.

"Do you honestly believe that no one has thought of this in the months of preparation for even asking you this question?" She asked uncompromisingly. "Do you think that Mrs. Lovegood, your close friend, would submit even an idea involving anyone if they might be hurt?" Harry sank down into his chair, intensely grateful that Luna wasn't there to see his mistrust in her.

McGonagall heaved a deep sigh. "However, I understand your fear of being sent so far back in time. I asked Mrs. Lovegood this same question, and I will give you the same answer." She searched his eyes. "Truthfully, Mr. Potter, if you saw an article in the Daily Prophet proclaiming that she had managed to fling herself back in time a few weeks or so, do you think it would get as much media attention, or much merit? Unfortunately, Mrs. Lovegood is considered as a less than merit-able person, despite the fame of her husband, Mr. Weasley.

On the other hand, can you imagine how much more seriously people would take it if the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world," Harry winced, "went back not a week or so, but two thousand years! Imagine all the good this discovery could do if it wasn't doubted!"

Harry licked his lips nervously, understanding her point almost too well. Still, he disliked using his celebrity-like status to endorse or publicize. He rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

"You're certain this will work?" He asked finally. He had trusted Dumbledore's decisions his whole life, save a month or so in his seventh year, and trusted the new Headmaster nearly as much.

McGonagall's face softened. She had a firm policy of having no favoritism towards students and alumni alike, but she had to admit that the Potters and their friends had been some of her favorite students, despite all their troublemaking.

"I'm certain, Harry," She said, using his first name for the first time in their meeting. "I have looked through the facts myself and I am convinced it will send one back in time far more than just a few hours - and safely, at that."

Unconsciously, he felt himself relax with her comforting words. Despite the fact that he had finished his (rather unorthodox) seventh year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry almost three years ago, he still felt a large and unhealthy (in Ron's opinion) amount of trust in his teachers and in staff in Hogwarts staff in general.

_Excluding Quirrel, Umbridge, the fake Moody, of course_, Harry thought. _I don't like to leave Hermione though, even if it is just for a few weeks at most. But then again, she would murder me if I passed up a chance to help __make actual, studious history; not history that banks on me defeating Voldemort, or doing something equally dangerous and reckless..._

"So say I agree to do this..." McGonagall looked triumphant at his words, "Then how will you get me back?"

"The process is rather interesting, actually-" She began. Harry mentally groaned. _I feel a very long explanation coming on,_ he thought. Things that began that manner usually did.

"-the basis of it being that we look for you through time using a the Tempus Wardus spell. A rather useful charm searches through..." _I knew it! I just knew there would be a long explanation. I wonder if teachers have to go through exams telling how to draw things on longer... _"-and by following the magical-" _Huh... I never noticed before, but McGonagall has the same type of glasses that Dumbledore had._ "-of course, the dialect of the spell insinuates that it was-" _I wonder who is her Deputy Headmistress or Headmaster... I bet it's Flitwick or..._ "-it. Unfortunately for him, in 1792, Barnabas Berkins-" _or maybe Slughorn... Anybody but Trelawny, of course. I wonder if they knew each other in school or something. There seems to be a Potter/Snape like feud there..._ "-return to Hogwarts."

Hearing his cue to continue, Harry concentrated on looking enlightened, apparently successfully judging from Minerva's satisfied smile. "Thanks Minnie," her smile slackened slightly at the use of the nickname. "That clears things up."

"Have you made your decision?" She asked hopefully.

Harry sighed, weighing his options. On the positive side, it would only take a week, max. _A vacation, one could say_. He would be (and often was) the first to complain that his busy days spent as Head of the Auror office at the Ministry of Magic were not exactly soothing. _On the other hand, what if something goes wrong while I'm gone? _He dismissed the thought at once. He had an excellent staff, and his staff could certainly handle almost anything thrown at them.

"All right, I'll go," he said with a sigh. "But give me a day to pack some items I might need."

"Excellent!" McGonagall exclaimed triumphantly. "Just remember that you could show up anywhere you have been in your lifespan. You have been to a number of... interesting places, to say the least. For all I know, it is quite possible that you could show up in the middle of Malfoy Manor or somewhere else equally unpleasant. The Malfoys were one of the first Wizarding families, after all."

Harry shuddered at the thought of appearing in the middle of Malfoy Manor in while ancient (and likely even more violent) Malfoys cursed first and asked questions later. Cumulatively, not a good scenario.

"I'll keep that in mind..." Harry said, mind still whirring over the countless unfortunate places he could pop up.

"You'll need to report here tomorrow at 11:00, then," McGonagall continued briskly. Harry nodded surely, keeping eye contact.

"I'll be there."


	2. Departure

Disclaimer: Despite how much I would like it, I will never own Harry Potter.

"Hello" - Speaking out loud

"HELLO" - Shouting

_Hello _- Thinking/Flashback/Dreaming/Spell Name

Hello - Place name and/or time period

_Chapter Two: Departures_

Harry walked through Hogwarts's maze of corridors and staircases in a dream-like state. He trusted Luna and McGonagall with his life, but he still had misgivings about doing anything so potentially time altering.

_Just breathe, Harry, _he told himself. _You're over thinking this. This is _not _a big deal. All you have to do is lay low for a week or so, no biggie. _It was not that he hadn't done more dangerous things in his life, because he most definitely had. It was one of the tamer things he had done, to tell the truth. _It's fine, _He continued. _Stop being such a bloody worry wart. _

Wrapped up in his thoughts, he barely noticed his surroundings as he deftly navigated through the school. That is, until, he walked through Nearly Headless Nick. A cold, clammy feeling washed over him as he stepped through him. For a second, he thought he was approaching a Dementor, and reached for his wand inside his robes' pocket, but he was stopped by the ghost's exclamation.

"Bless my soul! Harry Potter! So nice to see you. But why are you here, and in the summer no less?" Harry's hand fell back from his robes' pocket at the familiar voice.

"Hey, Nick. Just some business with the Head. How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he said rather impatiently. "Just Peeves acting up again. You would think he'd calm down with no students to prank, but alas, he is in the midst of preparation for some intricate prank."

Harry chuckled good-naturedly. He had recently found a book detailing the Marauders pranks Hermione and his (now restored) house in Godric's Hollow. Apparently, it had been sealed with a blood ward, preventing any of the Aurors from clearing it like the rest of the house after his parents' deaths.

"I'll keep an eye out. See you again soon," he said, walking away. Now out of his stupor, he looked around him at the place that had for so long been his true home. It looked mostly the same, with a few glaring differences.

The walls were patched in places, and a few paintings and suits of armor were missing, decimated in the Battle of Hogwarts almost three years ago. Harry himself had helped clean it up afterwards, a task full of painful flashbacks. But under the orders of the new Headmaster, McGonagall, they had left remnants of the battle as a reminder to students and teachers alike.

Finally reaching the great hall, he looked up at the staff table with a sad smile. Behind the familiar seats and table settings, a huge, black granite memorial stood, engraved with all of those who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts, or to help the war effort. He knew almost all the names there. There were hundreds, among them some of his closest friends and his godfather. _Sirius._ Even five years after his death, Harry missed him with an aching heart.

Tearing his eyes off the memorial, Harry walked between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables to the exit. Upon reaching it, he shoved the heavy door open, sunshine pouring into the room behind him. He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the sudden light and stepped out onto the slightly cracked staircase leading to Hogsmeade.

After reaching the the small village, he stopped, nearly stepping into the Hog's Head for a drink. He declined his mental invitation, and disappeared with a loud, "POP!"

_Even after all this time, after every time it's saved my life, I still _hate_ apparition,_ Harry thought. _I much prefer flying._ But he had to admit, it was more convenient. A few seconds later, he stumbled not so gracefully onto the old, cobbled road outside of his house. Once only a memorial to James and Lily Potter, it now doubled as Harry's house. At first he felt guilty, as if he was intruding, but realized that his parents would like him to live in their ancestral home, and moved in shortly after he married a little more than a year ago.

A far cry from the clean cut lawns of Privet Drive, the Potter home had a wild charm that he liked. It looked small from first glance, but he soon discovered it was a very large house in it's magically expanded insides. Outside, there was a large back yard with a field and two knotted apple trees. Harry smiled to himself as he entered his home, stepping into the wood floored entryway.

"Hermione! I'm home, and you'll never guess what McGonagall wants me to-" but he was cut off as two figures raced around a door to greet him. One the form of a woman just a bit shorter than himself, and another a dog just a bit taller than her knee. Hermione, his wife, rammed into him forcefully - nearly knocking the wind out of him - enveloped him in a large hug.

"Nice to see you, too," he said, weak kneed. "Any particular reason for the excellent reception?" She smiled, but shook her head the negative. Next to her, there was a large, shaggy black and white dog wagging his tail manically. Harry scratched Star's ears gently as he bounded around them in delight.

"How was Hogwarts, Harry?" Hermione asked, leading him back to the living room, where she was working.

"Very unusual," he answered truthfully, taking a seat on the upholstered seat. "McGonagall has apparently decided that I am the best person to throw two thousand years back in time using Luna's new spell."

Hermione gasped, though somehow she didn't look as surprised as Harry had imagined. "Amazing! Ron told me she'd been working on something big, but I had no idea..." Her excited expression turned slightly worried. "Is it safe? Gods know if anything bad can happen, it'll happen to you."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." This seemed to do the opposite of the reaction he wanted, and he sighed. "It'll be fine, Hermione. Luna's spent months making sure there's no such thing as time splinching," (Hermione winced) "-and there's no way I'll get stuck there." She looked satisfied, and opened her mouth a bit doubtfully as if to begin speaking, but Harry cut her off, not wanting to admit that he hadn't exactly listened studiously when McGonagall explained how it worked. "So how's the book going?"

"Great! Of course, it's much easier than it would be to write on another subject, but we all had first hand accounts of the Battle of Hogwarts, so I'm doing well." She spoke animatedly, expressing true interest in her work. "I'm considering writing an updated version of _Hogwarts, a History _after I'm done. I could write seven books about the things you've done to change things there!"

Harry laughed. "Who would want to write that much about me? That's a whole book per year I went there!" He paused, looking thoughtful. "If you really consider my seventh year to be school, anyways." Hermione seemed to remember something at his words and looked slightly worried.

"Harry..." she chewed her lip a little bit, looking nervous. "I was thinking... we never really got a full education at Hogwarts, what with all those Horcruxes. I mean, we missed the whole years' _Magical Healing and Remedies_ class, on top of our N.E.W.T's!" Harry felt a cold dread seep into him. She wasn't honestly suggesting what he thought she was... was she? He loved Hogwarts, but it was too soon to go back so permanently after all the bloodshed there. _Plus, the press would have a field day. I can see it now: 'Harry Potter, Defeater of Voldemort and Head of the Auror Office Goes Back to Hogwarts!'_

"Well, _yeah,_" he replied carefully,_ "-_but instead we got real experience! And if I want to learn about that, we could just hire a tutor or something-" Hermione beamed at him rather deviously. "-we don't need to go back to Hog-" then he stopped mid-sentence, finally taking in Hermione's expression and what it meant. _I swear, my wife is the only person I know who can trick you into being home schooled with her when you finished schooling years ago and looking sweet all the time. _

Harry gave a sigh. Now that he'd admitted that it could be beneficial to hire a tutor, she's never back down. "I was planning on taking a healing class at the Ministry, anyway," he gave in with a muted sigh. _It may not be something I really want to do, but I guess it'll help in the long run... I hope. _Hermione looked jubilant.

"I think I'm rubbing off on you, Harry." She said jokingly. "Imagine what Ron would say!" Harry shifted a little uncomfortably. Ron and Hermione had been together for a few months after the Battle of Hogwarts, but they had eventually separated because of their differences. They were still good friends, something that he was extremely thankful for, but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable sometimes.

Harry's relationship with Ginny had gone along the same track. It had lasted a bit longer than Hermione and Ron's, but he had found Ginny's personality to be too different than his for him to really have a long relationship with her. It hadn't help that she had flirted with both Dean _and_ Seamus when they had come to visit the apartment that they had shared for a while in Hogsmeade.

After their respective relationships had ended, they had found themselves with each other much more often comforting each other. After Hermione had gotten over Ron, and he Ginny, they had started hanging out more, and it had pretty much branched off from there.

_I'm glad that Hermione and I didn't have these feelings in school though, or at least not feelings that we could understand. It would have made a _lot_ of unnecessary drama in our lives, especially with Ron liking Hermione. _Harry shivered at the thought of the work it would have taken to keep their (for once, true) love triangle out of the Daily Prophet.

"Anyways," she continued. "About the time traveling. You agreed, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, two thousand years ago puts you in about... well, zero - give or take nine or ten years. That was, of course, before the Salem witch trials and all that trouble, but you should still bring your invisibility cloak just in case."

"You thought I would go without it?" Harry teased, raising an eyebrow as he leaned further back into his chair and scratching Star's ears as he gazed up at Harry lovingly.

She sniffed, pretending to be offended, but didn't continue the fake argument. "You should also bring some books or something to do. You don't want to change time, and if what Luna said about you arriving somewhere of significance to you, you'll probably end up in Hogwarts, which will be about 70 years old at that time. And remember, it's only an experiment, so don't go exploring the past. We can always to it later." This last comment seemed to be more to herself than to him, because once finished she looked off into the distance with a glazed look in her eyes, muttering.

Harry smiled fondly at her love of knowledge. She was by far the most Ravenclaw-ish Gryffindor he'd every met.

"Okay, I'm going to go upstairs and pack. I have to be at Hogwarts tomorrow by noon," Harry said, getting his thoughts back on track. At his words Hermione blinked rapidly, as if dispersing a vision in her head (Harry wouldn't be surprised) and nodded.

"Sure, I'll get the you the tent and some food." And with that, she set off; striding purposefully towards the kitchen.

...o0O0o...

After his wife rounded a corner, Harry walked up to his and Hermione's bedroom on the third floor. It was a large bedroom, still mostly unfurnished because of the short length of the marriage so far. On the left wall, it had an expansive wall of books and a comfortable looking chairs before a fire. On the right, there was their bed, a door to the bathroom, and three paintings.

The first was a painting of Harry's parents, which they had also found in the locked attic of the house. The second was of Hermione's parents, (Katrina and Ralph) who they had gotten magically painted soon after finishing seventh year. The third, and biggest, was of Harry, Ron and Hermione together.

Shortly after finishing the decorating, Hermione and he had realized that they had (unknowingly) furnished the bedroom after the Gryffindor Common Room; a fact that didn't surprise them too much, as it was one of their favorite rooms in Hogwarts, and the first place either of them had really been accepted and made friends.

As he walked into their room, the they painted people looked up and smiled or greeted him. Harry smiled, and went to the corner, where the wardrobes were. He riffled through a small drawer on the side, and pulled out what appeared to be a matchbook, set it on the ground and tapped his wand on it. At once, it grew into his trunk. He knew he would only be there for a week or so, but honestly didn't have any smaller bags. After the whole Horcrux fiasco was over, he and Ron had bought matching trunks (this one) that looked and acted like a normal trunk, unless you said it's assigned password.

When you said the assigned password, it transformed into a small one person apartment with a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom and living room. He and Ron had spent an afternoon thinking up funny passwords (from "Lord Moldypants" to "Die, Malfoy, Die!") but he had eventually decided on "Werewolves Rock," in memory of Remus. (Ron, however, had chosen "Don't eat my stinky cheese.")

First, he lugged the now large trunk over to the bookshelf. He needed things to do if he was going to be sitting around for a week. He walked along the bookshelves rather slowly, pulling out a few fiction novels, and a few he would need to study for their tutoring session. Knowing Hermione, however, she would probably arrange for lots of "extra-curriculars," so he took out some books on things he thought she'd want to learn about. Among them, 'Athrimancy: The Return to Basics,' '5,001 Make-It-Yourself Poisons,' (A book he had bought while trying to think up ways to kill Voldemort; though he doubted Voldemort would've eaten the poisoned birthday cake Ron suggested) 'Useful Potions,' (In Harry's opinion, a slim topic despite the size of the book) 'You and Your Animagus' (He, 'Mione and Ron were already animagi - he had two - but he was interested in how your animagus was chosen for you) 'Funny Points in History,' (Okay, so that one was for... recreation, you could say) and '3,000 Useful Charms You Didn't Know About.'

Satisfied with his books, he deftly placed a Feather-Light Charm on his suitcase and carried it over to his wardrobe again. Taking no particular notice of what he was packing, he stuffed clothing rather haphazardly into the trunk. He was probably over packing, but who was going to tease him about it? He wasn't going with anyone. Hell, he thought he'd even seen dress robes somewhere in a handful of clothes being stuffed in.

After all his normal (by wizarding standards) clothing was packed, he set his trunk down in the middle of the room and packed important things (and things that he had forgotten.) He packed his invisibility cloak, his Firebolt (shrunk with a silent_, Reducio_) the album of photos Hagrid had given him in first year, an album of he and his friends, his Gringotts key (_who knows how long they've been around, _he thought) and the Marauder's map, out of habit.

Snorting at the sheer amount of items he had packed, he closed the trunk, shrunk it back down to the size of a matchbook, and put it into his pocket along his wand and walked downstairs. When he got down, he saw Hermione tapping a rather large cardboard box with her wand, doing what seemed to be various enchantments on it.

"Harry!" She said, hearing him come downstairs. "I got a Floo-call from the Weasleys while you were packing. We're going there for dinner tonight."

Harry smiled. He was very thankful that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the rest of their families hadn't stopped their friendship with Harry when he broke up with Ginny. He didn't have the best friendship with Ginny herself, although they were on speaking terms.

"Sounds great... but what are you doing?" She stopped her enchantments and turned around to face him.

"There! Finished. Now this box of food for your trip is non-aging, bug-resistant, water-repellant, partially refrigerated, has a water tap, _and _a Butterbeer tap. Don't go crazy with the Butterbeer, though. It's from our tab at The Three Broomsticks." Harry's mouth had fallen open at 'partially refrigerated.' _How does she know these spells? And more importantly-_

"You can make Butterbeer taps?"

"Yes, it's a variation of the summoning charm... why?

"Then why don't we have one here?"

"You and me both know that if we had one here, you and Ron would waste all Voldemort's bounty money on Butterbeer.

Harry stayed silent for a second, attempting to look misunderstood and indignant. Not that it worked. "...fine," he finally admitted.

Hermione smiled a slightly too innocent smile.

"What kind of food is in here, anyways?" Harry asked, poking the box with his index finger.

"Pretty much everything," Hermione admitted sheepishly. "Chicken, beef, potatoes, corn, salad, your favorite lentil soup..." the list went on for quite a while. Finally, it ended with, "pumpkin pie, treacle tart, and pumpkin pasties."

"Now all we need to do is... _Reducio!"_ The box shrunk to the size of a matchbook, and she handed it to Harry.

"I love you..." Harry said in a food-induced daze.

"I know." She said primly, though she allowed a smile to seep onto her face. "Now go get on some new clothes, we're going to the Weasley's in half an hour."

...o0O0o...

The next hour found a large crowd sitting at a round table in the backyard of The Burrow, eating Mrs. Weasley's food; a favorite of everybody's. Most of Harry's friends were there... the alive ones, at least. Next to Harry, there was George, Angelina and Fred Jr. Weasley. Harry's heart sank at the thought of Fred, who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Next to them was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then Ron and Luna Weasley-Lovegood. Next to them were Percy, Penelope and Archieus Weasley, Bill, Fleur, André and Vicotire Weasley; Charlie Weasley, Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas, (who were dating - not to Harry's great surprise) Lee and Katie Jordan, and Seamus, Vivian and John Finnigan. Finally, on Hermione's right, there was Teddy Lupin, Harry's godson, who alternated living at their house, and the various Weasleys'.

It was quite a large crowd, encompassing most of the Weasley's back yard. Food was spread out all over the table, and much of it was flying around in the air. (_Accio Roast Beef!) _When everyone had mostly finished eating their food, Winky (who had come to work for the Weasley's last year - much to Hermione's disdain) brought out several large platters of dessert.

When everyone had summoned copious amounts of dessert, stood up on his chair. Harry noticed that he seemed to look much happier than he'd seen him since Fred died.

"First of all, Molly and I would like to thank you all for coming here tonight on such short notice. We have gathered here today to tell you some amazing news I have received from Minister Aberforth himself. He has reached the venerable age of 107, and has decided to retire." Whispers immediately swept around the long table. This was certainly going to be on the front of the Daily Prophet the next day. _Seems like a nice break from what 'The-Man-Who-Conquered' bought at a muggle grocery store, _Harry thought, reminiscing on a previous headline.

Harry turned his attention back to Mr. Weasley, who had again cleared his throat - politely commanding attention. Now, however, he looked a bit embarrassed, though still mostly happy. "He... well, he has chosen me as his successor as Minister!" For a second, there was stunned silence. Then, everyone burst into raucous cheers

"Go dad!" George yelled, pounding him on the back, nearly knocking him off his chair, where he'd been standing.

Mrs. Weasley, though she apparently already knew this news, stood up and hugged him tightly. Harry heard fragments of yelled encouragement from around the table.

"-knew you could do it!"

"_Finally! _A minister who will-"

"-can't believe it!"

"-mazing!"

"-owes me 10 galleons!"

"-do all the things he's wanted to do for Muggles!"

"Silence!" Arthur Weasley called, still with a huge smile on his face. No one stopped talking, their hyped chatter still taking seniority. "SILENCE!" he repeated, his _Sonorous-_amplified voice rang around the field. Finally, everyone settled down. "This will be in the paper tomorrow, of course-" Bill whooped.

"Bill!" Mrs. Weasley said, albeit not very strictly. Bill raised his hands in a 'I didn't do it!' gesture, still grinning wildly.

"Anyways, as I was saying, it's going to be in the paper tomorrow, and I'm sure I'll have a lot of supporters, but I will also have a lot of people trying to make me fail."

Harry frowned. As much as he approved of Kingsley's choice, he knew it was probably not the best political choice. _But then again, that's Kingsley for you. He always was an act first, ask questions later kind of person._

"My most notable outcry will most likely come from, though I hate to stereotype, the older pureblood or Slytherin families." Though it was a grim fact, and one that could - and would - cause Mr. Weasley trouble, Harry (and Ron, he noticed) couldn't keep a smile off his face. _Imagine Malfoy's face when he hears about this! _Harry almost laughed out loud. "Because of that, I will need a few people to help me the next few weeks talking to families that I think may cause trouble. And, to be frank, you guys-"

"And girls!" Angelina said.

"Yes, and girls," he amended. "Are the first people who came to mind. I could've picked others who would be thrilled to help me, Fillius Flitwick, Hagrid or Dedalus Diggle, for example. But I wanted people who are well known as anti-Voldemort-" Nobody winced, one of Harry's favorite things about him being dead, "-and wouldn't force the idea on them. So if some of you could volunteer-" but he was cut off by the whole table (save most of the children, who didn't know what was going on) volunteered in excited voices.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Thank you! I'm sure that will help enormously. Now, tuck in!"

Everyone spoke to their neighbors excitedly, barely noticing the delicious dessert in front of them, a nearly unheard of feat in the Weasley house. Hermione turned to Harry, Teddy giggling and stumbling around next to her, picking up on the excitement and speaking in broken, toddler sentences.

"Can you believe it? This is amazing! I can only imagine how much good Arthur will do for the Wizarding World. The Muggle world as well, in fact!" Hermione was ecstatic, her whole face lighting up with a huge smile. "I'm _so _excited!"

"Yeeee!" Teddy said, jumping into Hermione's arms. "Happy! Happy!" His hair promptly turned electric blue.

"He's going to be an amazing Minister," Harry replied truthfully. _Plus, on a more personal level, the Weasleys will be able to afford a so much better life. If anybody deserves that, it's them. _

"Harry! I can't believe it! Dad as Minister of Magic!" Ron said as he came hurrying over to them, dragging a smiling Luna behind. "This is incredible!"

"Yes," Luna agreed. "He will do amazing things for the world." Ever since her father had died of Dragon Pox shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, Luna had been much less eccentric, increasing even more after she married Ron. She was still a little misty, and was still usually brutally honest, but she had lost what seemed to be a mental crutch. She was currently a seer-in-training, a fact that amused Harry. Ron was about the last person he would've imagined being married to a seer. _But then again, _Harry thought, _you certainly can't judge seers on Trelawny alone._

"Yes, I had a hard time imagining Ron marrying a seer before we started going out as well," Luna said. Harry's jaw dropped. _Can she read minds? _He wondered hesitantly, feeling stupid for even considering it.

"No, I'm just very good at reading expressions." She corrected, giving a slight smile. Hermione looked gobsmacked. She had been very tightlipped about Luna's profession around everyone but Harry, so he alone knew (though Ron, he thought, suspected) her verging on over-the-top incredulity about the subject. _It's Trelawney's fault, of course,_ he thought, _but it's a dangerous prejudice to have. I hope she grows out of at least some of her- _

"So, Luna, still working on becoming a seer?" Hermione asked stiffly.

_Never mind._

"Yes, I am. I am enjoying it immensely. I think I may teach at Hogwarts after I'm done with my training."

"I doubt Trelawney will give up her place without a fight, though. She was very sure about that in fifth year when Umbridge tried to sack her, remember?" Hermione countered.

"Yes. But she will retire by the time I am done with my training," Luna replied in a voice with such certainty that she could have been saying that grass was green, and the sky blue.

Hermione sighed, seeing that this was clearly not a winning battle.

"So Ron, now that your dad's minister, what do you think he's going to do first?" Harry said, changing the subject to a slightly less fragile subject.

Ron brightened at the change in the conversation. "I'll bet my broomstick he's going to..."

...o0O0o...

Harry and Hermione Potter didn't return to their home until late that night, verging on 2:00am. Even so, they were the first ones to leave, explaining that Harry needed to get to bed because he would be time traveling the next day. This, of course, was at about 12:30, the next two and a half hours being spent by Luna and Harry explaining the whole ordeal (Luna in more detail) and how Harry had gotten roped into yet _another_ dangerous thing.

They barely had time to get into their pajamas before collapsing in their bed, falling asleep immediately.

The next day, Harry didn't wake up until about 11:00, due to his late night out, even then very reluctantly. He was more amiable after a shower, but the fact still remained that he was _not _a morning person - no matter how late in the morning it was.

"Toast or waffles, hon'?" Hermione asked brightly, who was a very marked morning person.

"Errughhh..." Harry groaned, slumping onto the counter without ceremony.

"Toast it is, then!" She said, undeterred. Harry, who was a very good cook, would normally be helping as he was the better cook in the house, (not that she or he would admit it) but today was definitely a Code Red: Harry-Needs-Rest-Day, and after The Bacon Incident last month he hadn't done as much cooking in the morning. It had taken weeks to get all the bacon fat out of his hair.

Finally, with his trunk, food and wand stowed carefully in the inside pocket of his robes, he and Hermione set off for Hogsmeade.

...o0O0o...

They arrived in McGonagall's office at about a quarter after noon.

"Sorry we're late, Minnie!" Harry said, the rainy weather on the walk from Hogsmeade having fully woken him up.

"Not a problem, Harry. And must you insist on calling me that?" She asked slightly woefully.

"Yep." He replied sunnily. After he had found one of the Marauders many books recounting their time in Hogwarts ("We're going to be famous someday, Prongs, may as well make a basis for our biographies!" -Sirius) that they had all called McGonagall "Minnie," he hadn't stopped calling her it. She hadn't put that much trouble into stopping him, and he suspected that she secretly liked it - so Minnie it was.

"If you must," she said with a slight smile on her face. "Mrs. Weasley-Lovegood? Can you take it from here?"

"My pleasure, Minerva." Luna said.

"Be careful," Hermione blurted out, biting her lip nervously.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Luna said. "He'll have an excellent time."

_An excellent time? But I'm just sitting around for a week... _Harry thought curiously. But before he could voice his question, Luna said,

"Do you have everything, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." He replied firmly, trying to convince himself it was true.

"Here. Read this when you get there," Hermione said, and she handed him a sealed envelope. She looked at him for a second, seemingly drinking him in, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

He slipped the envelope into his pocket.

"Enjoy the past, Harry," Luna said.

The last thing he saw was her lips moving, mouthing a spell, before he was jerked portkey-like by his navel into a black swirling tunnel.

A/N: Hope you like it... I'll try to update soon ;)

Review!


	3. Arrival and Izlanzi

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am not J.K Rowling. Get the picture?

_Chapter Three: Arrival and Izlanzi_

The first thing Harry noticed upon awakening was the smell. All around him was the slightly familiar smell of rain and moss. He turned his head over from the face down position it had been in previously, and a beam of light momentarily blinded him. _Where... am I?_ He asked himself groggily. He seemed to be in a sparsely wooded, yet vast forest. Through a break in the trees over his head, he could see a midday sun bearing down on him through the dewy leaves of a poplar tree to his right.

_A forest?_ He realized. _But which? I've been to very few forests in my life, only three or four, and this looks like none of them. Lets see... _Forbidden Forest_? _He looked at his surroundings with a more critical eye, _Nope. The forbidden forest is mostly evergreens, and the trees are closer together. Plus some animal would've eaten me while I was asleep. _Little Hangleton Forest_? No, It's unlikely I'd land there; I as only there for about five minutes, and it was a very small forest, nothing compared to this one. _Forest of Dean_? Hmmm... I think that's it. I can't be sure, it's much different that seeing it in the winter or with all those tents for the Quidditch World Cup, but I think that's it. _

Groaning, Harry slowly stood up. _Well, at least I'm in a place I can stay in without muggle interference for a while. _He pulled his trunk out of his pocket and set it down, and was about to tap it when he realized that he wasn't sure what he even needed from there. He wasn't hungry, tired (the hard ground had knocked that out of him) or thirsty. There were books to read, but he didn't feel like it. It was about 80 degrees out, good weather for a walk. So, he placed his trunk back into his pocket, and started walking through the trees.

He walked at a rather slow pace (his right leg still ached a little from the fall) through the forest. There wasn't much underbrush, creating a natural maze through the woods. He had been walking for about a quarter of an hour when he started to feel as if he had forgotten something. He frowned, thinking hard. He had his trunk, wand and food in his robes' pocket... what else did he have? He rummaged through his pockets.

Droobles Best Bubble Gum wrapper, his Potter-Black-Gryffindor family crest ring(he didn't wear it much) , a keychain Hermione had given to him for his birthday with a stag, dog, wolf, phoenix, snow leopard, and an owl on it, the crumbs of a treacle tart he had taken home from the Weasley's in his pocket, 30 galleons... and a sealed envelope. _Bingo!_ Now _he remembered. Hermione gave it to me just before I left for the past. _

He slit it open with his fingernail. At a glance, he recognized his wife's handwriting.

_Dear Harry, _

_First of all, this is a very hard letter to write. I know you're unaware of it, but you will not be gone for a week. You will be in the past for nearly a year. It was hard keeping this secret from you, and we (Professor McGonagall, Luna and I) didn't tell you because we knew that you are entirely too loyal to me and to your friends, and you would refuse to go no matter how much fun you would have there. Knowing you, you're probably thinking, "_Bloody hell, Hermione! I'm in the Dark Ages! What am I supposed to do to have fun here?" _And if it really was the Dark Ages where you are, then you would be pretty much right. But you aren't in the Dark Ages. You are currently in the year 1977, two weeks before James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew's seventh year of Hogwarts. And you will be joining them. It was Luna's idea in the beginning. She made the formula, and most of what we told you about it was true; only with one glaring difference. It can't take you back 2,000 years. In fact, it can't take you back for than 50 years. But she still needed to test it, so we decided to send you on it to the place in time we thought you'd like the most. In addition, you can finally do your N.E. and take those classes you wanted! It will be an excellent time to learn about history through it's own point of view, and I'm sure you will have an excellent time with your parents and the marauders. Now that the novelty and surprise has worn off, I'm almost certain you're thinking about what you could do to change the future. Harry, you can't. For example, if you saved your parents, Voldemort would've never been defeated for those eleven years, and imagine who else could be dead, and what effect that would have on the timeline. Ron or I could not even be born! We aren't exactly sure how things will work if you do accidentally change time, but do everything possible to avoid it. You'll return to our time automatically three days after Hogwarts ends for summer term, so no need to worry about that. _

_I know this will be hard, but you have to bear with me here. I'm fine. Ron and all our friends are fine. You don't have to do everything all the time. Think of it as a well-deserved vacation. _

_Lots of love,_

_Hermione Potter_

Harry was stunned. Without really noticing what he was doing, he sat down on the forest floor ungracefully, browned leaves crackling under him. _I'm going to see my parents! Sirius... Remus... Wormtail. Wormtail! I'll kill him- no, no I can't. _Harry breathed deeply, calming himself. _I cannot change time or events to happen. Peter must stay alive. This is a good thing... _

After he had almost fully convinced himself that he was completely happy, and not nervous about meeting his parents when they were two years younger than him (both lies) he stood up and looked around. The Forest of Dean seemed much larger and more imposing now - the trees dark and secretive. _Where will I go until school starts? _Harry furrowed his brow as he thought, unconsciously running his hands through his hair. _I could go to Hogsmeade - nah. Then I'd have to take the Hogwarts Express both ways unless I wanted to make a spectacle of myself and just pop into the Great Hall. Diagon Alley? Hmmm... I guess that will work. I need to get my books and a cauldron for the school year anyways. _He stood up straighter. _Diagon Alley it is, then. _

And then, Harry Potter - the first timetraveler ever to travel more than a few hours into the past, disappeared with with a loud, "POP!"

......o0O0o......

Harry arrived in The Leaky Cauldron with a resounding crack, and took in his surroundings. Ever since the war, he had been very cautious (overly so, Charlie and Ron claimed) when in inclosed spaces. The fact that he had accidentally summoned Death Eaters to this same place by using Voldemort's name didn't help. Observations about the pub ran through his head; _Two visible doors, probably another out of the kitchens. Two windows, too small to get through. Seven people here, all unknown. _

"'ello, mister. Fancy a drink?" The bartender asked, shining a glass with a dirty rag in a motion almost comically stereotypical.

"No thank you - too young." Harry replied. This, of course, was untrue - he was 19. (Wizarding drinking age was 19.) But as he was pretending to be a Hogwarts student of 17, he couldn't stop for a Firewhiskey. Especially here - The Leaky Cauldron was the rumor mill of wizarding England.

The bartender nodded understandingly, and started talking to a witch and a wizard who had just entered behind him. Harry recognized them as Ludo Bagman and Professor Sprout, but as he wasn't supposed to recognize either, he slipped quietly into the seedy back yard and tapped the brick wall with his wand in an intricate pattern. It slid open smoothly, and he hurried through into the busy street.

Harry looked in amazement at the alley, which was bustling with shoppers and clerks. The Diagon Alley of his time had been a barely recovering ghost town. After he had killed Tom Riddle, it had taken an extremely long time to get up to even half it's original publicity and shops.

Startling himself out of his daze, he walked down the alley to the Flourish and Blotts book store. A bell rang as he entered the store, and Mr. Blott greeted him.

"Hello, what can I help you with, sir?" He asked.

"I need the seventh year Hogwarts students books, please," he asked, looking around at the multiple tables laden with books.

"Hogwarts, eh? I don't remember you coming here before," the shop tender said curiously, stepping out from behind his desk and wiping ink-covered fingers off on his shopkeepers apron.

"I'm a transfer student," Harry said, thinking quickly. "I'm from Durmstrang."

"Hmm. That's unusual... I haven't seen an exchange student in here for nearly 30 years!" He said. Harry laughed nervously, worried he would call him on his bluff. However, he seemed to forget all about it barely a second later. "Anyways, you'll need..." and he strode off, listing books that Harry would need. _I need to figure out my cover story, and fast. _Harry thought. The idea of him needing a cover hadn't occurred to him until now, and he decided to deal with it after he left the shop.

"-extra classes are you taking?" Mr. Blott asked, now holding a rather large stack of books.

"Erm, I'm taking, " Harry thought fast. "Magical Remedies, Dueling, and Care of Magical Creatures."

"Interesting choices, young man. Not many people take Dueling or Magical Remedies." He scurried off, grabbing three books from a nearby shelf and placing them onto the counter. "Okay, your total is... 18 galleons and 4 sickles."

Harry handed over the money, realizing that he was going to need to visit his vault at Gringotts before he went anywhere else. "Thank you, and have a nice day!" Mr. Blott said, and Harry picked up his books, put a featherlight charm on them, and walked off.

Next stop for him was the bank. He walked back up the alley a few shops to the massive marble building, taking it in. Passing by the warning poem, he stepped inside the building and lined up behind an elderly witch for a teller, his mind whirring.

Goblins didn't ask questions, that he knew. Could he risk asking to go to his family vault? Would Dumbledore hear of it? He trusted the old man explicitly, but he knew that Dumbledore had an uncanny knack for knowing what others didn't want him to, and he wouldn't put it past him to figure out his secret.

Before he knew it, it was his turn.

"Name, please?"

"Harry Potter," he said, deciding to give his real name. The goblin looked up and seemed a bit puzzled, but didn't question him.

"Key, please?" Harry handed him his little gold key.

"Come this way." Harry sighed in relief. _Of course, I can't use my real name anywhere else. My first I think is fine, but my last will bring up too many questions. Patterson? No, too similar to real name. How about Jameson? It's true, in a way. I am James's son... _He was so wrapped up in his alibi that he barely even noticed when the cart stopped outside his vault.

"Potter vault: number 394, sir." The goblin said sullenly.

"Thank you..." Harry said distractedly, not noticing the goblin look up in surprise at his thanks. He had learned to grudgingly respect goblins after his affairs with Griphook, who had helped him to rob Gringotts in his seventh year.

Harry stepped inside the vault. He would need to be careful and not take much. Yes, it was his vault, but James Potter and most likely his parents were still alive and taking money from here. His body tingled at the thought. He went to the back of the large pile and swept some into his trunk, which he expanded. He wouldn't need _that_ much, he just needed school supplies and maybe a bit of spending money.

"Finished," he said to the goblin about three minutes later. He had thought about asking for his family vault, but while the Potters (it was strange thinking about them without including himself) would certainly notice of he took one of their ancestral items or a portrait.

"Get in the cart, sir." The goblin said. Harry did so, and the cart took off, clacking at high speed the opposite way through the tunnel and up to the service floor. Upon arriving, the goblin pointed to the exit silently with one long gnarled finger, and walked away. _Goblins, at least, haven't changed,_ he thought amusedly.

......o0O0o......

A little more than an hour later, he had finished his purchasing what he didn't have for school (Hogwarts robes, a pair of dragon hide protective gloves, and a set of brass scales) when he realized that he didn't have a pet. After Hedwig had died, he hadn't been able to bring himself to buy another owl, so he had used Hermione's owl, Athena, to send letters. Now, of course, he couldn't use hers, so he would need his own. He didn't have anybody to write to in this time period, but he had decided to order the Daily Prophet, no matter how false it could be. He had no idea what the Voldemort scene was like right now, but he needed to keep up with events.

So he walked into Magical Menagerie to his right, and resolved to buy an owl. The shop hadn't changed much since he'd been here in third year to buy Crookshanks and "Scabber's" rat tonic. It smelled like dung, was full of noise (varying from screeches, to squeaks and squawks) and had a very surly looking witch sitting behind the counter reading Witch Weekly. The same witch, if he remembered correctly, albeit much younger.

"Welcome to Magical Menagerie. Today, we have a 50% off discount of carrier pigeons, get them while they're hot." The witch said very unenthusiastically, not looking up from her magazine article.

"I'm just going to look around." Harry "Jameson" replied.

"Take all the time you need," she said, going back to Witch Weekly.

Harry walked slowly down the isle. _Discount pigeons, rats, owls, snakes... _he paused briefly at the snakes, but then continued walking. _That's way too much trouble than it's worth. Being a Parselmouth isn't exactly something you can hide well when you have a pet snake you talk to. _He continued walking. Nothing he saw appealed to him. The owls, mostly asleep, were old-looking and bored. The rats were... well, rats. He _hated _rats. He was about to go to Eeylop's Owl Emporium to look at a wider selection of owls when he saw a small side door out of the corner of his eye. Normally, he would've left it alone, he hadn't noticed it in his room survey when he'd entered the shop. Above it was a black-on-white sign proclaiming:

**Rare and/or Magical Animals**

_It wouldn't hurt to look, _he decided, and pushed the door open. His first thought was that this part of the store obviously had very little business. The room was a shade darker than the rest, and he saw a fine coat of dust on the counters. Then, he looked at the animals. In the corner, there was a long, thin green snake with a sign under it saying:

_Creature: Ashwinder_

_Magical Attributes: Able to change size up to seven feet long; camouflage abilities. _

_Price: 80 galleons_

_Eighty Galleons! _Harry thought incredulously. Much too expensive. His eyes skimmed over the other animals... there were two kneazles (One, he was surprised to see, was Crookshanks - she really must have been in this shop a long time), a hippogryph egg (though, according to the sign, it wouldn't hatch for about another 30 years), a two-tailed cat, and... a phoenix!

The phoenix was a beautiful mix of ruby red, gold and black, similar to Fawkes. It sat in an abnormally clean cage at the far left. It cooed sadly when Harry looked at it - an apologetic look on his face. _Poor bird, _he thought. _Beautiful, but unfortunate. _

The phoenix looked up, interested. _Yes, I would certainly consider myself unfortunate to be here. _At first, Harry just blinked, shocked.

"Did you just... speak to me?_" _He asked aloud

_Yes, I did, and am speaking to you, and you don't need to speak aloud. _It looked slightly amused, as if Harry were a troublesome or rowdy child.

_But, I could never talk to Fawkes... _He thought to it. _Why can I talk to you? Is is because I'm a phoenix animagus?_

The phoenix looked startled. _You know Fawkes? Fawkes is my twin sister. And to answer your question, only people who have a pure heart can speak to phoenixes, and even then only ones who are not linked to another. Though I suppose communication could be made easier by the fact that you are already linked with phoenixes in general. _

Harry snorted. He hardly had a pure heart. He had after all killed Voldemort and used the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange.

_Correct, but one's actions does not always mirror the purity of your heart. You did both for good, if rash in the second case, reasons. _

_I suppose... _He agreed uncertainly. _So what is your name, anyways? _The phoenix gave a squawking laugh, something he had never seen Fawkes do.

_My name is Izlanzi, _she said. _And yours, human child?_

_I am Harry Potter. _

_You are yet to be born, I see. _Izlanzi said mystically. Harry's eye's widened.

_How do you know that? _He asked fearfully. If this phoenix could tell, wouldn't Fawkes be able to tell and tell Dumbledore?

_Phoenixes each have different gifts. I have the gift of knowing and shapeshifting. My mother had the gift of the future, which she passed down to Fawkes. _

_That explains a lot, _Harry said truthfully, thinking of how Dumbledore always seemed to know what would happen.

_Now, if I am not too prudent, would it be possible for you to buy me? _Izlanzi asked cautiously. Harry thought. He rather liked Izlanzi, and he didn't see why not to buy her. If she truly had the gift of shapeshifting, she could shapeshift into an owl and deliver mail as well, though he didn't fancy stooping her to that level.

_Yes, I will buy you. You are... _he wiped away the dust covering the amount of money being asked. _Only 25 galleons? _He exclaimed mentally.

_Yes. _Izlanzi said sadly. _I have been here a long time, and the shop keepers are giving up any hope that I might be sold. _

_Here, let me just pick you up- _he lifted her cage gently, not wanting to hurt her. _And we can go. _Izlanzi cooed in happiness, but didn't reply.

Walking out of the small room, he was glad to see that there was no one else in the store except the woman behind the counter. He carried Izlanzi's cage over to the counter, set it on it, and said,

"I'd like to buy Iz-" he paused, "I mean, this phoenix, please." The woman looked up, then started when she saw Izlanzi, dropping her magazine to the floor.

"A-are you sure?" She asked doubtfully. "It's rather expensive..." He had to hold back from correcting her use of, 'it,' conveniently forgetting he'd called her an 'it' before he knew her gender.

"Yes," he said, not saying anything about her incorrect comment on the price. "I'm sure." She bit her lip.

"I guess that's okay..." she said. "That'll be... uh..." she consulted a list behind the counter "-25 galleons." Even she looked surprised at the price. He handed over the gold, which he had already taken out.

"Thank you." He said, turning around to go out of the shop.

"H-have a nice day..." the woman said, staring at him walking out the door without picking up her magazine.

The alley was mostly deserted by now, a fact he was thankful of. Not many people walked around Diagon Alley with a phoenix in a cage. A thought occurred to him, and he turned his head to ask Izlanzi if she would shape shift into an owl or another normal animal, but she was already in the form of a grey and black striped cat, looking slightly like McGonagall's animagus form.

_Good idea, _he praised her. She smiled a feline grin.

After walking he walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, applying a slight Glamor charm beforehand so that the bartender wouldn't recognize him (his hair was now white blonde, complimented by dark brown) he walked into the pub, and paid for a room. Tom lead him up to Room 17 on the second floor, and gave him the key.

"I hope you find it to your liking," he said, giving a little smile.

"I'm sure I will," Harry replied, returning the pleasantry.

Once he had locked the door, Harry took a look around. It was almost identical to the room he had rented here in his third year. The only differences were that the window was on a different wall, and the bedspread and pillows were a dark green instead of the sky blue they had been before... or was it after? _This is so confusing..._

It was then that Harry realized with a jolt of his heart that Dumbledore didn't even know that he was coming to Hogwarts this year. He turned to Izlanzi with an apologetic look on his face.

_Izlanzi? _He started a little uncomfortably.

_Yes, Harry? _She replied, concerned and a bit apprehensive at his tone of voice.

_I feel bad asking this of you, but is there any chance-_

_Yes, I will deliver the letter for you._

_How- Oh, right. Gift of knowing. _

_Correct._

After "speaking" with Harry, Izlanzi flapped out of her now-unlocked cage and seemed to stretch her wings a little before landing peacefully on the windowsill. Meanwhile, Harry bit his lip, trying to decide what to say in the letter. He had told Mr. Blott that he was from Durmstrang, so he'd best stick with that. _Hmmm... _he thought, and began to write, changing his handwriting a little to create a style other than his own messy scrawl.

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_I am writing on the behalf of my son, Mr. Harry Jameson, who wishes to attend your school for his seventh and final year of magical education. He previously attended Durmstrang Academy of Magic, but when we moved here he decided, to our great surprise, to attend Hogwarts this year. He already has aquired school supplies needed for the seventh year, and is anxiously awaiting your return owl. Please contact us as soon as possible._

_Sincerely,_

_Anne and Sean Jameson_

It was a short letter, but to the point. Harry thought for a minute, and upon deciding that he had included everything Dumbledore needed to know, he sealed it in an envelope, addressed it, and put it in front of Izlanzi. He watched her, curious to see her transform. Izlanzi transformed much like a human did into an animagus. Not with a poof of smoke or with a flash, but with an almost fast forward-like grace.

Her wings shortened, darkening into a golden brown with white flecks. Her claws lost a "finger" and turned yellow. Her neck widened and shortened, and her beak grew back into her head. And after about three seconds, there was an intelligent-looking brown, black and white owl standing before him. Izlanzi picked up the letter in her claws, and flew out the window, banking to the left and soaring northward. Harry sighed. _Guess I'm all alone for the night, _he assessed. _Good night, me. _

_Engorgio, _he commanded his trunk tiredly. He riffled through the trunk section of it and pulled out a faded T-shirt and a pair of worn sweatpants. After dressing into them, he closed the trunk with a "Snap!" and fell asleep almost instantaneously.

......o0O0o......

The next day, Harry was woken by a tapping sound on his window. Recognizing the sound instantly, he moaned,

"Not now, Hedwig. I'm tired..." The tapping increased, harder this time. He opened his eyes, fully expecting to see his sixth year dorm. For a second, he was confused by his surroundings, but then the events of the previous day game rushing back to him in a flash. He leaped out of bed, feeling guilty.

"Sorry, Izlanzi," he apologized, opening the window to let her in.

_You should be! I was tapping there for a good fifteen minutes! I couldn't even come in using flame-transport because I can't do in any form other than a phoenix, and it hurts to transform when it's so cold! _She complained, ruffling her feathers and soaking in the warmth of the hotel room.

_Here's the letter from Dumbledore, _she said, not dropping her disgruntled tone. _It'd better be worth flying over 600 miles in four hours, though. _Harry was about to dismiss her comment, when he stopped, gasped, and thought,

_Six hundred miles in four hours? How did you manage that?_

_I _am _a phoenix, you know. We fly faster that all other birds, and we don't tire from flying. Surely you noticed that while in your phoenix animagus form? _Harry blushed.

_Yeah, but I thought that was just for animagi. _He said, slightly embarrassed.

_I could've been back in probably two or three hours, but I couldn't go as fast in this ridiculous form, and I wanted to catch up with Fawkes. Don't worry, Harry, I told her not to mention your real name or that I am a phoenix to Albus Dumbledore. _Harry nodded in approval.

"Good," he said out loud to both himself and Izlanzi. "We can't have him know that. Did you get a return letter?" She nodded confirmation, and handed him the slightly hidden letter under her foot.

_Thanks._

_No problem, but next time wake up faster! _Harry chuckled and opened the letter. He smoothed it out on the desk, where he sat down, and began to read.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jameson,_

_Hogwarts would be delighted to host your son this year. We get very few exchange students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, so it is a particular pleasure. If it is convenient, would you please Apparate or Floo your son to Hogsmeade rather than have him take the train? The staff and I would like to meet him before the students arrive. We will sort him into one of our four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, after the first years are sorted. If you like, you may come to see Hogwarts before students arrive on September first. I have enclosed a few forms for you to sign or return blank that I will need to know. I look forward to meeting your son at school. _

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore;_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

_Thank god, _Harry thought in relief. _If I wasn't accepted, this whole escapade would've been a complete waste. _Remembering Dumbledore's notice about the forms to fill out, he looked in the envelope again, and found three sheets of paper there. He pulled out the first one.

_Dear Mr. Jameson,_

_Please note that the new school year will begin September the first. Please be Apparated or Flooed to Hogsmeade village by 3:00pm, where Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher, will meet you and guide you to Hogwarts. Students third year and over are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign. _

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Albus Percival..._

Harry skipped the rest of Dumbledore's titles. _Somewhere deep under that white beard,_ he realized in amusement, _Dumbledore is a very vain man. _

Remembering his father's handwriting, he signed the slip behind it, "Sean A. Jameson"

Following that, he signed a consent form saying that any injury he had at Hogwarts would not incriminate the school, so his imaginary parents couldn't sue the Hogwarts, a slip formalizing the fact that he was changing schools, and a survey-like paper asking him questions like: _"What is your birthday?" "What were your O.W.L scores?" "Do you have any allergies we are unaware of?" _(Harry snorted at the normalcy of that question) and _"Do you have any pets you are bringing to Hogwarts?"_

He found this quiz slightly amusing, because anyone who knew Dumbledore on a non-personal level would've been realizing as they read this that he was a glorified nut case. Harry's favorite Dumbledore-esque questions were: _"If you could only have one kind of sandwich for the rest of your life, what would it be?" _and _"What is your favorite common shrub?" _

When he was done and had sent the papers back to Dumbledore on a grumbling Izlanzi, he sat down, grabbed "You and Your Animagus," and waited for the school year to start.

AN: Whooh! These chapters just keep getting longer! They're multiplying! Anyways, like I said in the beginning, REVIEW YOU IMBECILES!


	4. Hogwarts and the Marauders

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to the Harry Potter franchise.

_NOTE: _In this particular fanfiction story, James Potter and Lily Evans were _not_ made Head Boy and Girl in their 7th year – for reasons pertaining to my story, and dormitory placement.

_Chapter Four: Hogwarts and the Marauders_

On August 31st, the day before Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be packed full of students, Harry Potter (or Jameson, as he had begun calling himself as practice) arrived in Hogsmeade village. Although he was not due to meet Minerva McGonagall at The Three Broomsticks until the next day, he arrived early and under the same Glamor charm he'd put on in Diagon Alley so to make sure that no one could recognize him. It wouldn't do to have anyone realize that he could Apparate without assistance into the village, or realize that he could do magic during the summer holidays - as his wand had still registered that he was graduated. Once arriving there, he checked into the Hog's Head, the bar and hotel there, and settled down.

Harry had spent the last few weeks reading, re-exploring Diagon Alley, and filling in any and all gaps in his cover story. Unlike Harry Potter, Harry Jameson had had a very ordinary (despite the occasional prank) time at Durmstrang. He was a good student, achieving seven OWLs (Harry's actual number), making a few friends - though no outstanding ones, and had gone out with an imaginary person called Lucy Dillinger in fifth year, and was now going out with Hermione Gardner, a Muggleborn a year younger than him.

He was a half-blood, his father a Pureblood wizard and his mother a Muggleborn witch, and had a younger brother named Theo who was just entering second year. He lived in Number Four, Privet Drive, Surrey. (It pained him to decide this, but he knew very little geography, as Hogwarts didn't teach it.) All in all, Harry Jameson had a pretty good life, if a little dull. He enjoyed playing Quidditch as seeker (Harry refused to give up Quidditch) although he hadn't been on the team, as this was too easy for Dumbledore or some other nosy person to check in records. He also liked to play pranks.

After many hours of drawing up his personality and particulars, Harry knew his alternate self almost as well as he knew himself. The one thing he had not changed about his identity was his looks. He knew he looked disarmingly similar to his father, a fellow seventh year, but he decided to keep his looks because he secretly hoped it would draw the Marauder's attention, and it would be very difficult and strength diminishing to keep a glamour charm up for ten months.

After getting a room at the Hog's Head Harry meandered around the streets, wandering into little known parts of Hogsmeade and finding many small, interesting shops. An example of one was, Yamato's Best Wizarding Bento, a place run by a pair of very polite Japanese wizards named Sakura and Yamato. He had stopped there to eat lunch, and found the variety amazing. He had to refrain from going into The Shrieking Shack for old time's sake, but decided it was for the best.

So when at long last it was September 1st at 11:45, Harry allowed himself to go to The Three Broomsticks and wait for Minerva McGonagall, his belongings stowed safely in his pocket. He had spent the majority of the day sitting in his room at the Hog's Head, trying to slow his fluttering heartbeats and worried thoughts. _What if they don't like me? What if I don't even really get to know them the whole year? What if Dumbledore figures out my secret? _The least important of the three was the third, in Harry's opinion. While it was a dire idea, the whole trip would've been pointless if he didn't get to know James, Sirius, Remus and Lily. If Dumbledore discovered his secret however, he wouldn't throw Harry out, but might attempt to get an idea of what was to come by badgering Harry or (if worst came to worst) using Legimency. He doubted Albus would do the second, but he knew that the man was very protective when it came to people he was in care of or loved. AKA, everyone in Hogwarts.

So there he sat at a small round table in the corner of the Hog's Head, facing away from the door and waiting for Professor McGonagall to come and "show him the way" to Hogwarts. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that when the Professor arrived, he didn't even notice. That is until...

"James Potter!" A severe voice exclaimed from behind him, making him jump about a foot off his chair. "What are you doing here, and where are your parents? You can't go galavanting around Hogsmeade alone with You-Know-Who arou-" She stopped, leaning in to get a better look at him. Harry's mouth was dry. He licked his lips nervously, and ran his hand through his hair.

"H-Hello, my name is Harry Jameson." He tried to look as innocent and confused as possible, and it apparently worked because Professor McGonagall took a step back, cheeks pink.

"O-oh! I'm sorry, I mistook you for one of my more troublesome students, James Potter. Quite a likeness between you two... are you related?" She seemed to be grasping at straws, attempting to steer the conversation away from her faux-pas.

"Erm... I don't think so, but I could be wrong. Are you Professor McGonagall?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, regaining her dignity. "I am here to show you around Hogwarts and introduce you to the staff. It's not very often we get transfer students here." She sat down across the table from him awkwardly. "Are your parents going to be coming?" She asked, looking towards the bar area to see if there were any people who looked similar to him, but it was empty.

"No, they had an important meeting with their company, they told me to apologize for them." Harry said, reading part of the-script-that-was-now-his-life from his head.

"Perfectly understandable." McGonagall replied in her usual brisk tone, nodding. "Shall we go, then?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, his chair scraping the floor as he stood up.

"Do you have any items you need to retrieve before we leave, she asked, looking doubtfully around the table for his trunk.

"No, my mum shrunk them for me, they're in my pocket," He replied, patting his robes pocket.

"Your mother seems like a sensible woman," McGonagall said approvingly.

The stately teacher lead the way through Hogsmeade, and then to Hogwarts, keeping silent most of the time. Only occasionally would she comment on a shop or a bit of information that would be useful for each student to know.

"The Headmaster told me you are taking Dueling as an extra curricular, correct?" She asked about half way through their walk to break the silence.

"Yeah, I was in a club for it in my last school, so I figure I may as well continue it here. It's a very under-rated sport, if you ask me." Harry answered. Though he much preferred Quidditch, he found dueling to be a much more athletic sport and had often used it as a simultaneous workout and spell practice exercise while looking for the Horcruxes.

"I agree. One Charms professor, Fillius Flitwick, was a dueling champion in 1970 through 1974," she commented. Though Harry already knew this, he raised his eyebrows to look surprised, and said,

"Really?"

"Yes, he almost won the Wizengamot cup in 1975-" _Uh oh, McGonagall-induced space out, _he thought as his mind began to drift. _Hah! _He mentally laughed. _Even in 1977, McGonagall can still drone like an old lady, even though she's only about 40 here. _"-then the previous victor-" _Nope, still not over. It's going to be strange to see Hogwarts in "mint condition" again, and without the memorial. I've gotten rather attached to it, and it serves it's job well. No one in Hogwarts will forget __that lesson anytime soon. _"-seasonal try outs, the wand of Feridius MacMillan-" _La de da de da... I know a song that everybody knows, everybody knows, EVERYBODY KNOWS! Because it's about Voldemort! Ohhh... Tommy, tommi-kinz wee wee lad found himself in an orphanage, and went bad. _"-despite his advantage, the _Kerphanalius Wandurus _charm-" _He blew up people, he ate raw __mice, until I came and blew him up twice! _"-lost. Such a pity. Oh, look! Hogwarts!" She pointed to the huge castle about 500 yards down the road. Harry tried, and failed, to make himself imagine the older McGonagall saying that with such enthusiasm.

Harry's eyes raised up to the magnificent castle before him. He got a lump in his throat. _This _Hogwarts castle had never housed Ron or Hermione. It had never hosted the Tri-Wizard Tournament, where Cedric died. It had never hidden the Sorcerer's Stone, or been taken over by Umbridge. He swallowed. It was hard to grasp that this was the same castle. It felt less like home than the one that knew his story, from the little first year begging to be sorted into Gryffindor to the battle-hardened man who had defeated Voldemort in it's halls.

"It's... amazing," he managed to say, perhaps with a little less enthusiasm than he should have used.

They walked up the non-cracked marble staircase to the great hall, to Harry feeling much longer than it ever had before.

"Welcome," McGonagall said, opening the doors, "-to Hogwarts." The Great Hall shone with glory, its blue sky filled with puffy clouds. At the staff table, two house elves were arranging chairs. Harry couldn't help but notice that the over sized chair usually reserved for Hagrid was missing.

"Wow..." he whispered, in as much awe as he had been his first year. In a way, it was the same jaw-dropping experience. This was a new Hogwarts, and he was going to have a new experience here, whether he liked it, or not.

After being given a rather unneeded tour of Hogwarts by the Gryffindor head of house and meeting all the ghosts sometime along the way, McGonagall led him back down to the Great Hall, where most of the teachers were already seated, ready to eat. In the middle of the table, facing the students, Harry saw a live Dumbledore for the first time in four years. Tears prickled his eyes. He had braced himself for this, and thought he was ready, but the sight of the grandfatherly man sitting as usual at the table, talking to a professor Harry didn't recognize spurred his emotions.

_I absolutely refuse to cry at all. _He told himself firmly. _I will not greet professors __by their names. I will not look at them like I'm seeing a ghost - which in a way, I __am. I will not do something stupid. _Harry repeated his mantra in his head, trying to look like an excited student seeing the Great Hall for the second time in his life.

"Why, hello, Professor McGonagall!" Dumbledore said jovially. "And this must be Mr. Jameson, our newest seventh year student?" He turned his gaze to Harry, his eyes twinkling like a supernova behind familiar half-moon glasses. "My, you look a lot like one of our Gryffindor seventh years, James Potter!" McGonagall blushed slightly at the reminder of her mistake.

"I really have to meet this James Potter, sir," Harry said truthfully. "Apparently he's my clone, or I'm his." A few of the teachers chuckled. Harry looked up and down the staff table, looking for familiar faces. He recognized professors Binns (now alive), Flitwick, Sprout, Dumbledore, Slughorn, McGonagall, and Vector - whom Harry vaguely recognized at the Arithmancy professor.

"Staff, this is Harry Jameson, a transfer student from Durmstrang who is going to Hogwarts for his seventh year. Harry, these are the current professors of Hogwarts, though they change year-to-year. As they are numerous, I will let you figure it out in their classes, and let you get to your food." He clapped his hands, and food appeared not for the taking, but already on their plates. Harry was slightly disappointed, as he had not had a true Hogwarts-fashion meal in a while, but looked purposefully surprised, and sat down in the empty chair between Professor Sprout and another teacher he didn't know the name of.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jameson, I'm Pomona Sprout. I'm head of Hufflepuff house. I teach Herbology." Harry shook her hand, smiling. He hadn't known Professor Sprout very well in the future, but she had always seemed like a kind person. Here was the proof. The teacher to his left gave him a forced smile and said stiffly,

"I am Vladomir Odius, the Astronomy teacher." Harry could tell he wasn't going to get along with him, and was doubly happy that he had decided not to continue with Astronomy this year.

"Nice to meet you, Professors." He started eating, taking part in a conversation with Sprout about the uses of Mandrakes, a subject he was rather familiar with after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco in second year.

After dinner was over, Dumbledore made a few announcements to the staff about the students, and suggested they sleep in, as it was going to be the last time they would get a good night's sleep until the Christmas Holiday. Harry smiled at that. The teachers filed out and headed to their quarters, leaving only Dumbledore and Harry behind.

"Um... sir?" He asked tentatively.

"Yes, my boy?" Dumbledore replied as he stood up, brushing Treacle Tart crumbs off his royal purple robes.

"Where am I going to sleep tonight, before the other students arrive?" Harry had been wondering this since the meal had began, and was extremely glad that Dumbledore hadn't forgotten.

"Oh! My apologies, Harry, one often forgets things in old age." Okay, so he'd forgotten. And Dumbledore wasn't _that_ old... yet. "I suppose you could sleep in the Head Boy and Girl's room near the Owlry... did Minerva show you where that is?"

"Yes, sir. Near the Astronomy tower, correct?" He asked, feigning hesitancy.

"Yes, you must have a good mind under all that unruly hair of yours to remember that! Hogwarts is quite the maze. Good night, my boy," he said, and left, his bright robes sweeping behind him. Harry smiled. Dumbledore was the oldest non-senile person he'd ever met. Less so than many people a good eighty years younger than him, in fact.

Shaking his head, he headed up the left staircase towards the Owlry. Once he had passed the Transfiguration classroom, he looked left and right, asking directions from a few paintings, until he finally found a Door with a plaque saying, "Head Boy and Girl." He found the door locked, and unlocked with a quick, _Alohomora _charm. He entered what looked like a miniature version of the Gryffindor Common Room, but furnished instead with Blue, Silver, Yellow and Black hangings. He took that to mean that the Head Boy and Girl were from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff this year. He headed up the left staircase, the side for boys in the Gryffindor Common room, and found himself in a rather large suite complete with a large bedroom, bathroom and fireplace.

"Sweet..." he said under his breath, surveying the comfortable surroundings with raised eyebrows. He enlarged his trunk and food, eating a piece of treacle tart, his favorite dessert, and pulled out the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered under his breath, and watched as the spindly black handwriting spelled out, "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present: The Marauder's Map." He unfolded it carefully, as it was getting more fragile with it's old age despite the preservation charms placed on it my Harry and Hermione after it had gotten a small rip near the dungeons.

His eyes scanned the map, watching all the teachers resting in their rooms, Dumbledore sitting at where Harry knew to be his desk, and his own still dot in an unmarked room near the Owlry. _The Owlry! _He thought with sudden dread. _Izlanzi's going to murder me! _He hastily folded the map and put it in his pocket, and hurried down the stairs, back into the hall, and towards the open aired owl perches.

Upon reaching it, he looked around, his eyes scanning the room for Izlanzi. Finally, in the far corner, he saw her roosting rather uncomfortably on a perch. Hearing his approach, she glared, and spoke,

_Oh! So _now_ you come, just as I was getting to sleep! What am I, an owl? _Though she was currently in an owl's form, he didn't dare comment or laugh at her similar phrasing to Hermione's statement in third year.

_I'm sorry, girl. I got caught up in old memories. This place is so different, and yet exactly the same. It's hard to explain. _Her eyes softened, and she turned back into a phoenix.

_I understand... mostly. This castle holds many memories for you, both good and bad. It must be hard to see him again. _Harry knew she was referring to Dumbledore. He closed his eyes, as if hoping scrunching them would relieve his troubled mind.

_It is, _he admitted. _Though not as hard as it could've been if he was the Dumbledore I know. _Izlanzi cooed sympathetically and flew over to his outstretched arm to perch there.

_Come on, _she said gently. _Let's go back to your quarters. _Harry opened his eyes and, still holding the surprisingly light phoenix, walked back to his room. He opened the door and let her fly in. He wasn't surprised to see her fly up to where his things were kept without asking directions. _I think I'm getting used to this whole "knows everything" thing. _He thought to himself.

_By the way, Harry, _Izlanzi called down _Your pair of black jeans, you know the ones that Hermione hemmed for you, have a small hole on the right side of the butt. _

He sighed. _Why is my life never normal?_

The next day, Harry awoke late in the day, almost 1:00 in the afternoon. Guessing it was because of the lack of sleep he had gotten lately, he didn't think too much of it. He had always been a very unpredictable sleeper, one of Hermione's pet peeves. He sighed. _I miss you, Hermione... _he thought to himself. _It's just not the same being here without you. _

He came down to the great hall at about 1:45, uncertain of what he was supposed to do with no classes. Going into the bathroom, he locked the door to the stall and peeked at the Marauder's Map. Dumbledore was apparently talking to Minnie as they walked along the fourth floor corridor, but most of the other teachers were in their rooms or offices, probably getting in a little bit of relaxing time or planning lessons. _ What are you supposed to do here when there isn't __anyone to talk to, and no classes? _His question remains unanswered to this day.

After several long hours of doing just about nothing, it was finally time for the students to arrive. Harry was just coming down the steps of the Great Hall, having retrieved his luggage from the Head Boy and Girl's quarters, when Dumbledore called him over.

"Mr. Jameson, could you come here for a moment, please?" The elderly Headmaster called. Harry walked over. "Good, now I'm going to introduce and Sort you after the Sorting of the new first years, so until then, you can wait in the room back here," Dumbledore said, pointing to a room to the left of the staff table.

"Sounds good, sir," Harry agreed, and walked into the room. To his surprise, it was a fairly large, comfortable looking room with green and gold furnishings; not at all like the small broom cupboard-like space he'd been imagining.

Seeing a mirror on the back of the door, he walked over to it, and attempted (unsuccessfully) to flatten his hair. But of course, it was stuck firmly in its messy state. Through the door, Harry heard the students filing in, talking excitedly with their friends and the scraping of bench legs on the floor. These noises went on for a while, until all the second through seventh students were seated and mostly quiet.

"First of all, I would like to welcome all of you back to another year here at Hogwarts. I'm looking forward to another eventful year, and I hope you all will liven it up as much as you can." Harry tried not to think of the surely smirking Marauders just 50 yards away. "Now, with more boring announcements later, let the Sorting begin!" After he finished speaking, Harry heard a door bang open, and could imagine the familiar scene of scared-looking first years shuffling nervously into the hall.

From there, Harry heard Minnie take over. "Now that our welcome is finished, let the Sorting commence. First of all, Appleby, Samuel." A few seconds pause, broken only by the slight sounds of the large audience. Then, "HUFFLEPUFF!" And clapping could be heard from the Hufflepuff table nearest to the doors.

Although Harry was interested in the Sorting, he couldn't help but tuning out McGonagall's voice and the resounding cheers from about the room. His brain was whirring. _I'm about to see my father and mother for the first time when they're actually alive. They're alive... everyone's alive! _He was so wrapped up in nervous elation, that he almost missed his cue.

"Unusually, this year, we have an exchange seventh year student from Durmstrang Academy of Magic, another well known European magical school. Let me introduce to you-" Harry took a deep breath, and put his hand on the door handle, ready to enter. "-Harry Jameson!"

Taking another deep breath, Harry pushed open the double door leading to the Great Hall. His eyes flew over the four long tables, seeing a few faces on every table that he vaguely recognized. His eyes slowed on his father and godfather, sitting at the middle of the Gryffindor table. So as not to let them see he was staring at them, drinking in their youth.

Whispers swept throughout the hall. Harry tuned into their individual voices, listening to parts of their conversation. _"He looks just like James Potter!" "Is this another one of his pranks?" "I bet he'll be in Slytherin; I mean, he came from Durmstrang!" _(Harry ground his teeth at that last comment.) _"I've never heard of a transfer student before..."_

He walked over to the stool where the Sorting Hat was placed, picked it up, and perched it upon his head, closing his eyes calmly. It was much more uncomfortable than he would have thought to be sorted while people were actually able to see his face, and he theirs.

_Well, a time traveler! Haven't seen one of you since Wendelyn the Weird used a time turner to get re-sorted in 1764. Not that it worked, of course. I still put him in Hufflepuff. Anyways, another Potter... James's son? My goodness, you breed like rabbits, don't you? _

_Hello, Sorting Hat. How are you? _

_That's certainly a question I don't hear often enough - I'm doing well, the Sorting is the best part of the year for me, of course. I actually get off that dusty old shelf. _

_I'll mention the dust to Dumbledore when I get detention..._

_Hah! _The hat laughed. _So sure of you'll get in trouble, are you? Though, judging by your memories, you have a lot to base it on. Dragons, The Chamber of Secrets, the Department of Mysteries, for Merlin's sake; is there anything you haven't gotten in trouble for?_

Harry laughed at loud at the hat's comment, getting strange looks from all over the room. _I have yet to get in trouble for swearing, but I'm sure I can manage it sometime this year. _

_Ha! I like you, boy. Now judging from your success on Gryffindor, it seems the best place to send you. Have fun in-_

_"_GRYFFINDOR!"

Polite cheering filled the room. Everyone seemed rather surprised, and if he wasn't mistaken, he saw a flash of gold go from a grumbling Slytherin's hand to a Ravenclaw's across the break in tables. If Harry had ever actually gone to school at Durmstrang, he considered it likely that the Slytherin would've won the bet, but he was a Gryffindor through and through.

He grinned, trying to hide the panic rising up his throat. He sat down next to his father, trying, and failing, not to look at him.

"Psst! James-clone!" Sirius called from over the table. He raised his head, raising an eyebrow at what he hoped would not become his nickname. "Nice you meet you, I'm Sirius Black. This is Remus Lupin-" he gestured to his side where Harry's professor and deceased friend sat. Remus gave him a little wave. "Peter Pettigrew-" Harry tried to keep his face neutral as he looked at the chubby boy, who ignored him in favor of the recently arriving food. "-and my best mate over there is James Potter." Harry turned his head to look at his father, who was looking at him curiously.

Harry did look very much like his father, there was no denying it. They had the same hair and bone structure, even reaching about the same height. The only difference was Harry's emerald green eyes, which were currently meeting light hazel ones.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm James." James reintroduced himself, sticking out a hand for Harry to shake. Harry took it slightly weakly and smiled.

"Harry. Harry Jameson." Harry replied.

James grinned. "Do you play Quidditch?" He asked eagerly. Remus groaned, closing his book that had been propped up against a platter of chicken legs.

"Pr- I mean, James, this Quidditch..." He searched for a word, "-_obsession _has finally gone too far. Greet him normally, for Merlin's sake!" Harry's future professor spoke with a scowl, though his eye twitched with silent laughter.

James pretended to be defeated. "Yes, Professor Lupin," he said. Harry snorted with laughter, seeing the irony in the comment even if no one else did. But before James could follow up on said "normal greeting," Sirius butted in.

"So is it true that Durmstrang has a painting of Grindelwald in it? What does he look like? Is it true-" Remus elbowed him in the stomach.

"Sirius! Must I always be the mature one around here?"

"Yes." Said both James and Sirius, straight faced. Remus sighed and looked at Harry, his amber eyes boring into him in a very teacher-like way. "You aren't going to make me keep you in line too, are you?" Harry grinned at the opportunity and contorted his face into a pleading, childish look.

"What are you talking about, Mummy?" James and Sirius's smiles widened, and Peter looked up for the first time, looking interested.

"Ahah! I see we've finally found someone who enjoys a laugh in this dismal-"

"-laugh-less-"

"-un-pranked-"

"-normally colored-"

"-mentally crying-"

"sob story of a school!" James finished. Harry looked at Remus.

"Do they do this often?" Harry asked.

"Wayyy too much to be considered normal," Remus replied without a thought, chewing on a mouthful of bread like a cow with cud.

"It's true! They're like twins!" Peter backed up in a rather squeaky voice.

There was a comfortable silence as they ate the now-piled-high food on their plates.

"Sooo... Harry." James began casually. Remus looked over at him suspiciously. "_Do_ you like Quidditch?

That night, Harry stayed up late, content just to listen to the Marauders sleeping. Sirius's deep, rumbling snores. Remus's heavy breathing. James's light, widely spaced snores. Peter's silence, broken only by his frequent shifting in bed. Harry had been delighted to learn that he would be sharing one of the two seventh-year boys' dorms with them.

_It's so strange to see them all alive, _he thought to Izlanzi, who had turned back into her normal red, gold and black plumage. _It's amazing... but at the same time sad. They don't really know anything about the world, do they? _Izlanzi wove her long neck around his arm so he was holding her. He stroked her, comforted.

_Yes, Harry. It is good that you see the difference between the people you knew and the people you see now. It would cause great trouble to confuse them._

_I know. I'm glad I came though, even if I can't change the future._

_Good. Feel thankful. Remember, you still have many months to get to know them. Don't rush yourself. _And with that, she disconnected herself from him, flew a few feet, and disappeared in a spiral of flame.

_She's right, I have can't make the mistake of thinking they are the same people I know from my time. That might prove to be more trouble than it's worth. _And with that, he crawled under his covers, and slipped off into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

"Wake up, sleeping ugly! It's time for a new day! We're going to be late; even _Peter's_ already in the Great Hall, and he's a late waker himself!" Remus said in (what Harry considered to be) an overly cheerful voice.

"Go 'way, Remus. I'm trying to sleep..." He turned over to face away from the werewolf's face.

"Hey! That's my clone you're calling ugly!" An sleepy James called. "If you want to insult someone's looks, insult Sirius. He is, after all, _mutt_ ugly" Despite the fact that he was defending himself, not his future son, Harry couldn't help but feel his heart lift at his father (_My father!_) protecting him.

"Hey! I resent that!" Sirius said, hopping up and down on one foot as he attempted to put his hat on his foot, something Harry had learned in fourth year to be an unsuccessful venture.

"You know it's true," James teased, finally sitting up in his four-poster bed, albeit extremely reluctantly.

"Stop arguing, you idiots," Remus said impatiently, hurrying Sirius out the dorm's door, though he was unable to completely rouse James. "We all know you're both just filled with unattractive traits... just get up. We're going to miss breakfast!" At the warning of missing out on eating, Harry rolled out of bed and drowsily put on his glasses.

He rummaged around in his chest of drawers - he had unpacked sometime around 1:00 AM last night, while listening to his new friends sleep, and pulled out a pair of slightly wrinkled blue jeans, a T-shirt advertising "The Chopping Cauldrons," (a wizarding band Harry was fond of) and a pair of black robes to put over them.

"Look, Harry's up!" Remus used weakly, still trying to wake James, who remained stone still in his bed. Harry shrugged, not seeing the problem, pointed to his unmoving father and said,

"_Aquamenti_!" Water sprayed out of his wand and onto James's head. He shot straight up, yelling some... erm... _interesting _words of his vocabulary at the top of his voice.

"_Harry!_" He said, still yelling. "How could you?" Harry's grin faded. He couldn't honestly react so badly to a _prank_ of all things, could he? "Now you've messed up my hair!" Remus and Harry sighed exasperatedly, Harry partially relieved.

"If you hadn't stayed in bed, you would've been perfectly dry and eating breakfast now!" Remus scolded, a smile tugging at his lips at the sight of James's dripping head. Harry smiled innocently, grabbing his school bag and started towards the Great Hall, leaving them to argue over the importance of food versus sleep.

Harry plopped down across the table from Sirius, and started piling food onto his plate. Sirius stared at him over his large mound of sugary foods.

"Aren't you getting a little much?" He asked uncertainly. "You've got almost as much as me." Harry raised an eyebrow at his comparison.

"I'm a growing boy, not a rabbit." Harry said. Sirius nodded sagely, understanding Harry's stance on the subject.

"Pete and I tell Jamsie-boy that all the time." Peter nodded, listening in on their conversation. "If he wants to grow, he has to eat! He's as skinny as a starved mouse, although-" He looked at Harry accusingly. "You don't seem to be much better. Sort of creepy how similar you two are. Are you sure you're not related?"

Harry shook his head. _More closely than you think, Padfoot._

"If you say so..." He looked doubtful, but didn't question him any further, preferring to attend to his caloric pastime. After a few minutes of semi-comfortable silence, a toweled (but slightly grumbling) James and a relieved Remus joined them.

"'Bout time, Prongs!" Peter called, ignoring the warning look he got from Remus in response to the unusual nickname. "You almost missed breakfast. One can't function well without a good breakfast." Peter said, putting a blueberry muffin on James's plate. "Here, I saved your favorite for you."

"Thanks, Pete," Harry's father said, picking up the muffin and eating it with obvious pleasure. Harry studied Peter Pettigrew for the first time. He could see little to no resemblance to the man he knew responsible for his parent's deaths_. I wonder if he's a Death Eater yet_? He thought, his eyes narrowing_. I wonder if I could find a way to see his upper left arm by "accident."_

He continued his train of thought until students started trickling out of the hall towards classes. "Who's got..." the time traveler consulted his week's schedule, "Transfiguration first?"

"Remus, Sirius, and I are the only ones who got into NEWT-level Transfiguration," James said. "Wait for us! Hogwarts can be large and confusing place." Peter looked at Harry squintily.

"What else are you taking, Harry?" He asked. Harry remained reaction-less, and listed off his classes.

"My core classes are Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions," He said the word, 'potions' rather distastefully, "and Herbology."

"Good, those are almost the same as mine, except I'm taking Ancient Runes instead of Herbology," Remus said.

"Remus doesn't have a green thumb," Sirius teased. "Remember the time when you had the rat tails for Potions and you-" Remus cut him off, looking rather grim.

"We are never to speak of it again."

"Suuuree we won't, Moony," Peter said, and walked away to Herbology, snickering.

**End of Chapter**


	5. Parents and Oddities

Disclaimer: Harry potter does not belong to me. *Sigh.* Maybe I'll get it for my birthday...

AN: Hey. Not much to say. R&R! (Seriously, peoples.)

Chapter Five: Parents and Oddities

It was almost comical how, though most other things had changed, classes at Hogwarts seemed to have remained the same_._ What they were having at the moment would have been a very interesting lesson if Harry didn't know most everything about the subject of Animagi already.

_More than most animagi learn about their animal forms, anyways. I know about transformation types, fighting styles, multi-animagi _(as he was the first multi-animagus since the 17th century) _partial transformations... everything. _Harry was even willing to bet he knew more on the subject than McGonagall, despite the fact that she had an alternate form herself.

"-arry!" Remus was saying, waving his hand amusedly in front of his face. Harry snapped out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, Remus?" _God, it's weird calling him that. I've always called him Professor Lupin, Moony, or just Lupin. _

"We're supposed to be practicing beginning human transformations, remember?" He reminded. Remus looked chagrined as he spoke, and Harry guessed that he reminded his friends of similar things frequently.

"Oh yeah, right." Harry scolded himself mentally. _I should at least pay attention. It is a new year, even if it is a bit belated. _And so he set about using the _Minimalus Canine _spellto grow his hands into wolf-like paws with long claws. Lupin- _Remus, _he corrected himself, looked impressed.

"Wow! You got it on the first try. Is Transfiguration your best subject, like James?"

"No, I'm better at Defense, but I had an... uh... tutor for Transfiguration in sixth year." He had never heard of magical tutors, but what else was he supposed to tell him? _Oh yeah, I do this all the time, but with my whole __body! I'm an illegal Animagus who is actually two years older than you and I got my training in the future! _Harry snorted. The Marauders would be impressed at the "illegal Animagus" part, as they were Animagi themselves, but would most likely think he needed a straightjacket for the second portion.

"Hmm..." the werewolf said distractedly, prodding his hand with his wand, but only managing to turn it sky blue. He sighed. "I guess Animagi and I really don't mix," he said over loudly, causing Harry's father to turn around with a falsely devastated look on his face, though he said nothing to cause Minerva suspicion.

The rest of the class went by rather dully, the strict teacher going over only the basics of transformations and spells, and causing a collective groan from the Gryffindor seventh years as she assigned two rolls of parchment on the early history of human transformation for homework.

After Transfiguration, Harry drifted through Care of Magical Creatures (a rather boring lesson about magical parasites), and Potions (which was fairly interesting) until he reached Defense Against the Dark Arts as his last class of the day other than Dueling club, which was after normal class times. The Defense teacher turned out to be a man named Harold Odolphus, who was a slightly dull - if excitable - man of around 50 with a bald spot and a thin mustache. Their first class was devoted to...

"Boggarts!" Professor Odolphus said cheerily.

"Umm... sir?" A girl Harry didn't know said. "We already learned about them in fourth year, I don't think-"

"I know perfectly well that you have already covered Boggarts, Miss..."

"Jeodfield. Lucy Leodfield."

"Okay, Miss. Jeodfield, do you have any idea why we would be covering them again?" Said "Lucy" looked baffled.

"I- I don't know, sir," she admitted, a bit embarrassed.

"Anyone else? Mr. Black?" Sirius shook his head. "Mr. Potter?" Harry started to follow Sirius's movements, but froze, remembering that "Potter" was no longer his surname. James mimicked Sirius. "Miss Evans?" Harry's heart stopped. _My mom... _He casually turned his head to the right, where Lily Evans sat two tables over. She was, in a word, beautiful. She had long, thick red hair, that reminded Harry for a second of Ginny's, but he banished that thought. Her hair was a darker, _much more beautiful _shade, opposed to Ginny's lighter color. She had light skin, verging on pale, with high cheekbones Harry recognized mirrored on his own features. Her dominating features, however, were her familiar emerald eyes.

Harry's heart seemed to expand.

She tilted her head up a little bit, her eyes far away in thought. "Well," she began hesitantly, "If you learn, or re-learn, to fight Boggarts later in life, your fears will be more terrifying or will bring more of a reaction from you, right?" The balding professor beamed.

"Correct! Five points to Gryffindor!" Lily smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Now, I have managed to get my hands on a Boggart that Professor Slughorn found in his private potions cabinet in the dungeons, so we will be having a practical lesson today. For all those who have forgotten, remember, the incantation is _Riddikulus. _Now line up!" The students did so, some muttering the spell under their breaths.

Without further ado, Odolphus opened the cabinet, and out popped a huge snake about fifteen feet tall which looked somewhat like a basilisk. The snake reared it's head, locking it's eyes on the first person in line, a boy Harry didn't recognize.

"_R-Riddikulus!_" He stuttered, and the snake's fangs turned into plastic, lolling out of it's confused mouth and bouncing against the snake's now pink scales. Laughter spread about the room at the sight of the now funny reptile. Next, James went, turning the Boggart into a pile of bleeding bodies, among them Sirius, Remus, a middle aged couple Harry assumed to be his grandparents, Peter, and Lily. The room was silent.

"_Riddikulus_." James said in a monotone, and the bodies abruptly came alive and started doing the hula. There were a few chuckles, but most people remained quiet. The following procession of fears was much different than Harry remembered from third year. Odolphus had been right. Most of the students fears were much more personal, often consisting of dead bodies, various Death Eaters, and several men Harry assumed to be what the students thought Voldemort looked like. (The funniest of which was a Crabbe-like figure with huge muscles and fire pouring out of his hands - he immediately turned into a baby holding jellyworms, but it was the thought that counted.)

He paid special attention to Sirius's (an Imperius-ed version of Sirius who was killing people left and right), Lily's (a pile of bodies, mostly of people he didn't recognize. She dispelled it quickly, but not before he thought he saw a telltale head of messy black hair and staring hazel eyes), Remus's (which, to his surprise, was a bloodstained werewolf sitting around the dead bodies of a shaggy, black dog, an elegant stag, and a rat, instead of a moon) and Peter's (another version of Voldemort.)

Finally, it was Harry's turn. To tell the truth, he was slightly nervous about facing his Boggart. _Pink Robes and a smiley face, Pink Robes and a smiley face... _he repeated over and over in his head. But when the Boggart turned to face him, it did not turn into a Dementor. Without even a warning puff of smoke, an all-too familiar entranceway appeared in front of Harry. Runes were carved on either side of it's thick columns, and a fluttering, ghostly veil moved with an invisible wind. Harry drew a blank, not able to do anything but stare at the offending structure before him. Confused whispers spread throughout the classroom.

Then, the voices started.

"Harry, it's your fault we died," The voice of an older Sirius said accusingly.

"My son will never know his parents, just like you. Because of your mistake..." the older Remus's voice whispered cruelly. "He is destined to have the same sorrows as you now, and it's all your fault." Harry's knees gave out, and he fell to the floor, unable to summon the strength to raise his wand and banish the false specters.

"If only we had never had you, then we would still be alive," The voice of his mother said meanly, her pretty voice distorted with anger. "I wish you had never been born."

"You saw the Death Eater who killed me, Harry," Fred's usually laughing voice said. "You could have stopped my death. Even a disarming charm would have worked. But you didn't. _You killed us_."

"If only you had dropped out of the Tournament. If you had abandoned your pride. You knew in your heart that if you really wanted to, you could've stopped." Cedric's voice said, floating through the veil.

"No..." Harry whispered brokenly. "I-I didn't mean it... I'm sorry..." A single tear slipped down his cheek.

"_Riddikulus,_" the professor said commandingly, and the veil disappeared, replaced by a dead woman who Harry assumed to be his wife. Harry remained on his knees, staring blankly at the space that the veil had occupied. _Why? Why do they still haunt me? _

"Harry?" The professor said worriedly. Harry didn't answer. "Harry!" He said, more forcefully this time. Harry turned his head, eyes blank and emotionless.

"Yes?"

"You- uh... your turn's over, you can go sit over there with the other finished students." He pointed to a few mostly full benches, and he walked zombie-like over there, sitting down on an empty one. He watched the rest of the students finish, there were about ten left, and then watched Odolphus's mouth move, presumably speaking to the class. But Harry's mind was full of doubt, not caring to listen. Finally, students started leaving, and he followed them back to the common room.

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter looked like they wanted to say something to comfort their newest friend, but they seemed to understand that he wanted time to himself. When he had finally reached his bed, he sat down, and laid back. He rested, staring at the wooden top of his four-poster. He didn't fall asleep, he was content just to look and think, not caring that he was missing dinner.

_They wouldn't want me to blame myself. They would die all over again before putting even a little bit of blame on me. _This made him feel even worse. _Even if I had personally killed them with my wand, they would've said it wasn't my fault. It's almost... unbearable, how selfless they are. _

Harry lay there for near two hours, allowing his thoughts to ferment. Finally he sat up and grabbed his wand before walking down alone to the Great Hall, where the Dueling Class would take place. None of the Marauders, the future Longbottoms, or Lily had signed up for dueling. Dueling was a class, formally, but it gave no homework except to write down various spells, and was considered more of an elective than an actual grade-giving class. Down in the Great Hall, fifth year and older students milled about a table which the teacher, Professor Bones - a woman Harry assumed to be related to Susan Bones - had conjured. Mrs. Bones was a petite woman in her 40s, with boy-short salt and pepper hair and a commanding expression. She reminded Harry of Madame Hooch, the flying instructor of his time.

"All right, gather round, gather round," Professor Bones said loudly, gesturing for people to come closer. "All right. Welcome to Dueling Class, students. Now who can tell me how this is different from Defense Against the Dark Arts?" A fifth year raised her hand hesitantly.

"Miss Devonshire?"

"As the name suggests, we're learning dueling here, not focusing on the spells themselves or dark creatures."

"Mostly correct. As Miss Devonshire maintained, we will be learning how to duel. Sure, we'll learn a few curses and hexes, but we're concentrating on the actual movements of spellwork. Reflexes, physical fitness, wandless spells, dodging, deflection, and more." The crowd looked at her in rapt attention. This was an unusual phenomenon for any class higher than first years, and the professor looked pleased. However, personally, Harry thought she shouldn't be so surprised. This was one of the most dangerous times in history. People weren't going to horse around in this class.

"First, we're going to break up into two groups which will be meeting at different times. Anyone who has experience dueling before, or is willing give more effort and meet more regularly, step to my right into Group two. If you have never dueled before or don't have enough time to spend with us three times a week, step to my left into Group one. Break!" Obviously, Harry went to her right. He had dueled with Voldemort and his death eaters numerous times. It that wasn't experience, he didn't know what was. The class was split fairly evenly. Most of the seventh years and about half the sixth years went to the right. The rest, consisting of the fifth years, and various sixth and seventh years went to the left.

"Good. Group two you will be meeting on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 7:00pm. Group one, you will be meeting with me on Wednesdays at 7:00pm. As today is a Tuesday, Group one can now disperse to their common rooms or the library until you must be in your common rooms at 9:00. Go!" _I think I'm going to like her. She's speaks short, straight, and to the point. _The Group one students filtered out up the stairwell. The remaining people made a group of about 15 people, a good sized group.

"That's better. Now! Drop and give me forty push-ups!" No one moved, looking at her incredulously. _Hah! I really like this lady! _Harry thought. He was among the first few to get down on his stomach and start doing push-ups. "Well? What are you waiting for? Start or else I'll make it fifty!" Everyone except two Slytherin sixth years started, and soon the hall was filled with muffled panting noises.

"Didn't you hear me, you twits? Go!" The professor commanded the Slytherins, who were still standing imperiously - looking at the panting students as if they were pieces of lint on their fancy new jackets.

"Oh, sorry, we must have walked into the wrong room. I was under the impression that this was a _dueling_ class, not a Muggle gym," the taller of the two sniped cruelly, the sneer distorting his face.

"I'm very sorry about the misunderstanding then, boys, you can leave now." Professor Bones replied cooly, turning away and seemingly not giving them another thought. They looked startled, but were too prideful to resist. Again, they sneered, and whirled around; marching out. By now, half of the students were resting, exhausted. _I would have thought they would be in better shape, with Tommy-boy running around, _Harry thought, slightly disappointed. He himself was at about 37 - the farthest in the group - and soon finished, only breathing a little harder than normal. He sat up and leaned back on his hands.

"You! New kid! What do you think you're doing?" The professor asked irritably.

"I've finished, professor," Harry said.

"Well then start doing sit ups! This isn't meditation class!" He sighed inaudibly, but started. Most of the people on the various Quidditch teams had finished by now, and had joined Harry in doing sit-ups, but the majority of the class was still struggling to do push-ups. After completing sit-ups, squats, weight-lifting (she had conjured 25 pound weights) and a few heart-burning stretches, she stopped giving orders, and Harry sat and caught his breath until the rest of the class finished, most of them in near hyperventilation. Although Harry didn't have much trouble in the exercises, it distracted him wonderfully from what he was now referring to as "The Boggart Incident." She waited mercifully for a few minutes, letting them catch their breath, then said,

"We will do this each beginning of class, as well as a three mile jog after class. Does anyone else want to leave?" Two Ravenclaws, three Hufflepuffs, the remaining Slytherin and a Gryffindor left the class, leaving the remaining students at a number of eight.

"Good. This is the most I've ever gotten in one group before! Great work, students!" The students stared at her in disbelief. "Now, as you catch your breath, I will explain the principals of Dueling. This will be one of the only non-practical lessons we will have in this class." The students murmured, some excited, some apprehensive. "Now. The three main skills in dueling - spell-wise, anyways, are Shielding or Evasion, Attack, and Distraction. All good or professional duels will have all three repeatedly.

"In Defense Against the Dark Arts, you have learned about Shielding and Attack, barely if at all broaching Evasion and Distraction. I'm sure most of you are wondering why it matters if you Shield or Evade a spell headed towards you. It depends on the situation. I'll explain later. This class will prepare you for the dark times ahead of us. The Ministry is telling us that they are close to catching He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In truth, they are about as close to catching him as you," she pointed to a sixth year Ravenclaw, "are to becoming the World Champion of Spitball."

The Ravenclaw looked offended, but the other students snickered, despite the professor's actual subject. "Some of you may become Aurors. Some may create their own company, or even teach. But it doesn't matter what you do, Death Eaters and You-Know-Who _will. Not. Spare. You_." Her audience shifted uncomfortably. "It's my job to make sure that you know how to protect yourself, so you can survive and be victorious when Death Eaters come to your house or store. Now, pair up with someone in your grade or close to your age, and teach each other spells the other may not know. Do not keep them withheld for covetous reasons. This information could be the changing point between life or death." Everyone quickly found a partner and started discussing jinxes and curses in hurried voices. Harry was paired with a seventh year Ravenclaw named Thomas Charleston.

"I've gotta admit, I'm not very good at Defense. I'm better at Potions and Transfiguration," Thomas admitted sheepishly. "But my dad taught me this one, do you know the _Oppungo _spell?" The name rang a bell in Harry's head... something about birds... but he couldn't quite remember. So, Thomas went on to show him, and explain how it worked. (It made conjured objects attack - something that delighted Harry with it's possibility.) Harry then taught him the _Portus_, _Inflomora_ and _Homenum Revelio_ spells; all which had come in handy for him in his school years.

Finally, after nearly an hour of practicing the new additions to their spell arsenal, Professor Bones spoke up again. "Now, I'm going to duel each of you for about five minutes, or until one of us is defeated. When the duel is done, line up again! Now, get in line!" Harry and his classmates did so. Harry was fifth in line, after Thomas, who had proved to be a nice and interesting person. First up was Esmeralda Summers, a Hufflepuff. She stood nervously, blocked Bones's _Tarrangula _and _Fernunculus _spells, then lowered her shield, attempting to disarm her. The professor dodged below the spell, sent a stunner, which Esmerelda dodged... turning right into another stunner sent by the tough professor. With a quick _Ennervate, _she was awakened, and returned to the back of the line. The rest of the matches before Harry went rather quickly, most students using only shield charms instead of dodging, something he found to be a waste of energy. Finally, it was Harry's turn. He had resolved not to duel his hardest, as that would probably bring up questions later, and was not frightened as he walked to the platform. He started the match.

"_Expulso!" _Bones dodged, the spell going on to explode some of the wall behind her. She grinned.

"Glad to see someone with initiative. _Confundo! Incarcerous!" _Harry dodged to the right, avoiding the confusion spell, then blocked the second hex with a shield.He bounced up and down lithely on the balls of his feet, ready to cast a spell or jump to the side. His opponent sent a wordless spell out of her wand, taking Harry slightly by surprise. It left a yellow trail, suggesting an _Obscuro _hex, and the time traveler stepped to the side, throwing a Body-Bind Curse at the same time. Bones blocked it, barely wasting a second before throwing another spell back at him.Hexes and Jinxes flew left and right for a few minutes, though Harry made sure not to use any silent or Distraction-themed spells to make it seem that he wasn't as familiar as he was with Dueling and the principals of it. Finally, the buzzer sounded for the first time, signaling the end of the five minute session. He halted, bowed to his newest teacher, and walked to the end of the line.

"Excellent job, Jameson, but don't forget to use a wider variety of the Principals. Now, class, one of the reasons Jameson here lasted so long was because he dodged and maneuvered his body to dodge spells rather than just using a Shield Charm. Though this may tire you out a bit physically, it conserves your magical core, so you can fight longer. Next!" Harry fought her a total of four times that night, lasting for the full five minutes each session. The average for other students was about two to three minutes, though two students managed to last for five minutes as well on their last try. They had just finished their three mile jog, two times around the lake, when Professor Bones said,

"Jameson! I want a word. Stay back for a second." Harry was startled, but sat down in a chair facing the professor and watched as she vanished the dueling arena and benches she had made in the beginning of class. He had been waiting for about three minutes when suddenly, wordlessly, a purple jet of light came soaring at him. Without a thought, he blocked wordlessly with_ Protego Horribilus_, a more powerful shield spell to block Dark Spells. The only other purple spell he had ever seen was Dolohov's curse which disrupted internal organs. He expected his new professor to announce that she was a Death Eater spy, and to try to kill him as a potential threat, but instead she pronounced,

"Hah! I thought you were holding back. Only a few Aurors could had successfully blocked that curse without warning or a spell name. Why weren't you going your hardest on me?" Harry was internally berating himself. _Why didn't I just throw myself to the side? But nooo, I had to wordlessly block it with an alternative Shield Charm. _

"Erm..."

"You won't get in trouble, I'm just wondering. Are you hoping to become an Auror, or to have a future in Dueling?"

"Y-yeah, I'm hoping to become an Auror. I've been dueling since second year. Clubs, just practice, and whatnot."

"Hmm." She still looked questioning, sensing that he was not giving the full answer, but didn't pry. "You were pretty good with the exercises in the beginning, as well. Would you mind doing some demonstrations with me in class sometime? It would be easier to explain things if I had an assistant sort of person." Harry raised his eyebrows. _Assistant teacher? Hermione is __definitely rubbing off on me. _

"Sure, Professor," he answered.

"Good. Do you have any specialities?" Harry furrowed his brow. _What's she talking about?_

"Specialities?" She sighed in a long-suffering way.

"Yes, specialities. Any dueling moves, spells or curses you're good at." Harry thought. He couldn't say that he was impervious to the Killing Curse (to some degree) for obvious reasons, but it'd seem suspicious if he accidentally revealed something he was especially good at that he didn't mention.

"I can produce a corporeal Patronus, though I'd rather not," her brows raised, impressed. "And I can throw off the Imperious Curse." The second was a bit much, maybe, but he threw it in there nonetheless. The only follow up question about that one would be-

"You had the Imperious Curse put on you?"

"Yes, my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor got permission from the government to preform it on us so we knew what it was like." He withheld details such as the professor's name or what year this was in to make less places for her or Dumbledore to look into and find proof against. _The less clues and loopholes, the better._

"That's certainly impressive. I'll have to ask Dumbledore if I can try that sometime later this year." She fell into thought for a minute or so, then, realizing Harry was still there barked, "Well? What are you still doing here? Go!" And he did so.

_"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off - " The sounds of someone stumbling from a room - a door bursting open - a cackle of high-pitched laughter - _

_"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything -"_

_"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl! Avada Kedarva!" His mother collapsed on the floor, dead._

_"Kill the spare." A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words into the night: "Avada Kedarva!"_

_A green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached to such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes. Cedric was lying eagle spread on the ground beside him._

_He was dead. _

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch..._

_Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's ashen, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place._

_"We've go a problem, Snape," said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, "the boy doesn't seem able -"_

_But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly._

_"Severus..."_

_The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. _

_Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed._

_Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. _

_"Severus... please..."_

_Snape raised his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore. _

_"Avada Kedarva!"_

_A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's and and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Harry's scream of horror never left him; silent and unmoving, he was forced to watch as Dumbledore was blasted into the air. For a split second, he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight._

_"You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some sort of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee. _

_"You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were -" _

_The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one stunned, the other Transfigured; and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart. Harry felt himself flying through the air, and all he could do was hold as tightly as possible to the thin stick that was his one and only weapon, and shield his head in his arms: He heard the screams and yells of his companions without a hope of knowing what had happened to them -_

_And then the world resolved itself into pain and semidarkness: He was half buried in the wreckage of a corridor that had subjected to a terrible attack. Cold air told him that the side of the castle ha been blown away, and hot stickiness on his cheek told him that he was bleeding copiously. Then he heard a terrible cry that neither flame not curse could cause, and he stood up, swaying, more frightened than he had been that day, more frightened, perhaps, than he had been in his life..._

_And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three redheaded men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood. _

_"No - no - no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!" _

_And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face._

"Harry! _HARRY!_ Wake up! You've woken half of Gryffindor-" Harry woke up to feel someone shaking him by his shoulders. He fumbled for his wand, but it was on his bedside table. "Harry! It's me, James!"

"D-dad?" Harry asked confusedly. "Am I dead?"

"Uh... no. James _Potter_," James sounded uncomfortable now, and had stopped shaking him. "You're in Hogwarts, remember?" Harry sat up and shoved on his glasses. He was surrounded by the younger versions of the Marauders, and a few people from the other seventh year boys dorm. _What happened? Last thing I remember, Fred was dead... _Then, as if answering his mental question, Remus said,

"You were having a nightmare. Here, have some chocolate." This last sentence was so reminiscent of the older Remus that he took it without complaint.

"Sorry," he mumbled, studying his crimson and gold bedcovers with an intense expression - needing to keep his eyes anywhere but on the people huddle worriedly around his bed.

"It's okay, Harry," Remus consoled. "I don't think any of us were having good dreams after the Boggarts, anyways."

"What time is it?" He asked to the general group, which now consisted of just the Marauders, the rest of the boys having gone back to their room.

"It's 4:30 in the morning, Harry," Sirius said irritably, ignoring the glares sent by James, Remus and Peter. "Couldn't you have waited a few more house and woke us up at a more normal time?" Despite the blunt, compassionless response, it made Harry feel better. _Good old Sirius_, he thought a bit sarcastically. _He never was a morning person_.

"Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Harry, I welcomed the wakening call from my dream. I wasn't as vocal as you, but that was the worst nightmare I've had in a while," his father commented, settling back into his bed. Sirius was already snoring. _He will no doubt have forgotten this by tomorrow. _

Finally, only Remus remained around his bed, looking uncertain whether or not he should go back to sleep.

"It's fine, Remus. Get some sleep."

"Okay, if you're sure..." he said doubtfully, walking back to his four-poster and lying down; staring at Harry thoughtfully for a moment before closing his eyes to go to sleep.

It took about ten minutes for his new friends' breath to even out, signaling that they were asleep. Harry remained awake, popped up against his pillows, staring into nothing. He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. He sighed defeatedly, and placed a Silencing spell on his feet. He opened his trunk, which was under his bed - full size - and pulled out his minimized Firebolt. He relocked and replaced it, and opened the window. He enlarged the broom, placed a Disguise Charm on it, and leaped out of the window.

He let himself fall for a while, feeling the frozen breath of night wind pulling at his hair, and when he was only thirty or so feet from the grounds, he pulled his broom around, and flew into a steep dive, skimming the top of the grass with his bare feet.

Harry soared over the Quidditch field, twisting through the scoring hoops and taking another dive, shallower this time, to the ground. He banked, flying over the recesses of the Forbidden Forest, the dark trees flowing into a field of forest green and black. He flew for at least an hour and a half, relieving stress and anxiety he didn't know he had. When the sunrise finally colored the sky orange, he swooped back to his room window, rocketing through it and hovering over his bed, which he promptly jumped down on, the springs squeaking.

"You're a good flyer, Harry," a voice said from the dark. Harry jumped, drew his wand, and was about to start sending curses left and right when Remus stepped out of the shadows. "A little jumpy, are we? Don't mind me, I'm just an early riser." Harry smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, Remus."

"Just fine. You certainly are like James, though, you know that? He plays chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He's an amazing flyer as well." Harry's neck prickled. He'd have to be careful around Remus. He had a knack for seeing and understanding things he shouldn't. "You should try out for the Quidditch team this year. Our current seeker, Timothy Holmes is a fifth year, and - between you and me - not a great seeker. He's only caught us the snitch two times, and he's been on the team for three years." Harry's attention was caught. He had been sad to abandon playing Quidditch when he came to 1977, but it looked like he might not have to, after all!

"Great! I usually play the seeker position." Remembering his backstory, he added: "I wasn't on the team at Durmstrang, but I play with my friends." Remus looked slightly disappointed, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he was looking for a loophole in Harry's disguise.

"Tryouts are on Thursday, I think," the werewolf said thoughtfully. "James is the captain, you should ask him."

"Okay, thanks, Remus." Lupin sat down on his bed, and started to read a book called, "The Top 1000 Runes You Should Know, " By Ethan Scribe. Harry started on his Care of Magical Creatures essay about Kiermites, a breed of magical parasite who burrow through Hippogiff and Thestral bone marrow. Not the most calming subject, though admittedly he hadn't gotten any homework done last night.

It took Harry about forty-five minutes to finish his essay, finishing it at about 6:30am. After finishing the homework, he jumped into the shower to wake himself up. When he exited, he noticed Peter stirring, put on some clothes, and looked over his schedule for the day. Without Dueling, it wasn't nearly as daunting. It read:

8:00 - Breakfast

9:00 - Potions

10:30 - Charms

12:00 - Lunch

12:30 - Magical Healing and Remedies

2:30 - Care of Magical Creatures

4:00 - Free/Study Period

6:30 - Dinner

It was a good day; with only Potions class to mar it. He had high hopes for potions class, though, as this year he wasn't an instant failure, or an instant protégé. Of course, Slughorn was still teaching, but without the Half-Blood Prince's book, he wouldn't do half as well. In fact, said potions book was probably still in the making as Snape was in school currently. Harry sighed. He hadn't seen Snape yet, and was glad of it. He was thankful of the man, and understood his pain and the sacrifices he had given to ensure that Voldemort was taken down, but he would never fully forgive him for having such a large part in killing his parents.

Yes, his father had teased him in school, but it was a different matter to offer his and his father's life in exchange for Lily's. He would never do so to Malfoy. Hell, he'd even _saved_ Malfoy's life a couple of times. Plus, it was sort of weird that he was in love with Harry's mother. He resolved to ignore Snape. He didn't want to be overly-friendly to him, but he didn't want to add to the fire of anger he held for the Marauders by joining in in their taunting. One more "vain, arrogant, idiotic dunderhead" might just push him over the edge.

Finally, after much thought and preparation, he was ready to set off for breakfast. Moony was already shaking - or attempting to shake - Harry's future father and godfather awake as he headed to the common room. When he reached the common room, he was about to head through the portrait-hole when a female voice said,

"Hello, you must be Harry Jameson. I'm Lily Evans, nice to meet you." His mother was walking down the staircase, a large pile of books slung around her shoulder in an embroidered red and gold book bag.

"N-nice to meet you."

"You must have a pretty good memory; I haven't seen you get lost in the halls yet! That's quite an accomplishment for a new student. I got lost once in fourth year!" She laughed fully, her nose crinkling up.

"Yeah, Durmstrang was large as well, though it didn't have any moving staircases," Harry answered. This was true. He'd overheard a Durmstrang student commenting on them in fourth year.

"If I may ask, why did you go to Durmstrang? You don't sound like you come from that area."

"I was born here, but I moved and lived closer to Durmstrang when got my owl before first year."

"Oh." She didn't look completely satisfied with his answer, but didn't push it. They continued their conversation, and by the time they reached the Great Hall, they were talking about classes.

"My favorite class is Charms, but I also like Care of Magical Creatures and Potions," Lily commented.

"I like Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Care of Magical Creatures. Though my Care of Magical Creatures class was much more interesting than the one here."

"I can't seem to get a very good handle of Defense for some reason." She frowned slightly, her eyebrows pushing together. "And why do you think Care of Magical Creatures is boring?"

"Well, in my old class, we looked at more interesting creatures rather than parasites." _Oh great. I'm starting to sound like Hagrid with his whole, "interesting is equal to dangerous" thing._

"Like what?"

"Well, we looked at Hippogriffs, Thestrals, Blast-Ended Skrewts," (okay, so the Skrewts weren't exactly fun, but it was a good example.) "-and more verging on crazy animals... our teacher was a bit eccentric in that way."

"Well, I hear we're going to learn about more dangerous creatures this year. We might even learn about vampires and werewolves." She said, attempting to cheer him up. However, this did the opposite for her case. Harry scowled deeply.

"I can't believe werewolves are part of the Care of Magical Creatures curriculum. It's terrible!" He snapped. Lily looked surprised.

"Why's that? Thestrals and Blast-Ended Skrewts are almost as dangerous-"

"No, no, not because of that," Harry interrupted mid-rant. It's just demeaning. They're normal humans most of the time, not Dark Creatures. They don't like it any more, even less probably, than we do. It's like us tying up a squib and poking it with a stick. The way we treat them is one of the main reasons most of them stay away from society. I even know a werewolf! I met one a few years ago and I didn't even know it until he told me." Harry finished his rant, panting slightly. Lily looked contemplative.

"That's a really interesting point of view, Harry. I never really thought about it before... maybe you can talk to Dumbledore about having that corrected. What do you think, Remus?" Harry's heart leaped. _Of all the times for Remus to listen in on a conversation-_

"I... erm- I don't know, really. Really! Yes, really, so how was Dueling, Harry?" He spoke this last question very quickly, navigating away from the current topic of conversation. Remus sat down next to Harry. He looked at the future teacher's face. It was an unusual mix of emotions. Relief, over finding out he wasn't sharing a dorm with someone who was vitally afraid of werewolves. Fear, of broaching the topic in general - something he rarely (if ever) did. Confusion, over how this conversation even started, and wondering feverishly if it was anything to do with him. And anxiety; because if Harry already knew a werewolf as he claimed, wouldn't it make it easier for him to guess Remus's secret?

_Yes, _Harry congratulated himself. _I'm still good at reading emotions. I surprise even myself sometime. _

"Harry? Dueling?" Lily prompted.

"Oh, it was great. I don't want to brag, but I've got a feeling it's going to be my best class. I was asked to be assistant teacher."

"Assistant teacher! That's gre-"

"_Assistant teacher?_ What kind of monster _are_ you?" The now-present Sirius exclaimed. Looking at Harry with a level of horror one expected to see in muggle horror movies.

"I wouldn't have done it for any class but Dueling," Harry assured him, chuckling a bit. "Assistant teacher basically means that I'm going to be her demonstration dueling partner and stuff."

"But still!" Sirius protested, trying to find words to express what he tried in vain to communicate with large arm gestures.

"Yes?" Harry prompted.

"Why did you agree? It just means more work."

"Well, it's actually pretty fun, and I've been dueling since second year, so I'm pretty well qualified. Plus, I wouldn't learn much just _watching_ demonstrations." By this time, the rest of the Marauders had joined Harry, Lily, and the still-shaken Remus. James was staring at Lily "sneakily" out of the corner of his eye, and Lily was blushing slightly at his obvious antics.

"I understand, I guess," James said to general astonishment. "I learn better when I'm actually _doing_ something as well."

"Yeah. It's much easier getting a hands-on lesson than just listening to a teacher speak," Peter said, nodding. "I don't like just speaking lessons... they're usually pretty hard to understand."

"I d-disagree," Remus said quietly. "It can be kind of... distracting when there are demonstrations." This didn't make a whole lot of sense to Harry, but he didn't mind. It was important for Remus to realize that not everybody would fear him if they found out about his "furry little problem." _It's good for his psyche_.

James and Peter, too, looked confused. Sirius, however, was shoving food into his mouth so fast it was hard to tell if he agreed, disagreed, or even heard Remus's point of view.

"Anyways..." Peter said, "We all have Potions first." ('We,' of course, referring to the Marauders) "What do you guys have?"

"Potions," Lily and Harry said simultaneously. Lily smiles at her future son, causing James to narrow his eyes slightly at Harry. Lily didn't notice, or didn't comment on it. "Speaking of which, we'd better be going." She stood, scraping her end of the bench back. James, Remus, Sirius and Peter stood up as well, Sirius and Peter grabbing a bagel each for the trip.

"May I escort you, Lily-my-love?" James asked, holding his right arm out gracefully. Lily blushed, but didn't take the offered arm.

"Just walk with me, okay?" James's face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning.

"Really!" He exclaimed. The redhead sighed exasperatedly.

"Yes, _really_, James. Now get a move on before I change my mind." Harry's parents hurried to class. Sirius sighed, his mouth still full of bagel.

"Young love."

"Like _you_ would know, Padds," Peter answered, snorting.

"I resent that!"

Potions class was fairly interesting for Harry that day. As he'd suspected, he was not actually that bad at potions without an oversized bat hanging over his shoulder. The subject, as well, was rather interesting. That day, they had made a Temporary Maturity potion, something Harry was sure his dorm mates would use in some sort of prank. Harry's final product was a slightly bluer-than-called-for, thick potion. Slughorn nodded approvingly at his potion, but said nothing; for which Harry was very thankful. He'd had more than enough experience with both extremely good, and extremely bad treatment in this class, and now he basically wanted to be left alone.

"My word! Lily Evans, you have outdone yourself!" The chubby teacher announced loudly. He picked up a nearby ladle and poured some of the potion into a glass vial. He held it up to the class. _Wow, he wasn't kidding when he said my mother was amazing at potions, _Harry thought approvingly. The vial was filled with a bubbling, royal purple liquid.

"Thanks, professor," Lily said, smiling up at him.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Evans. Would you allow me to have this for my personal stores?"

"Certainly, sir." She answered, obviously flattered. Slughorn smiled, his second chin spreading out fleshily.

"You really do have a talent for potions! I still say you would have done well in my house..." He trailed off, looking at her as if she were some sort of lost relic he had been out-bid on. Lily's smile faltered slightly. Harry guessed this was a point of argument between them.

"I doubt that, sir," She answered firmly. Slughorn sighed, resigned.

"If you say so, my dear. Now, class, for homework, I'd like you to write one foot about the Temporary Maturity potion, and the uses for it as well as recent history. Now hurry on, your next class will be starting soon!" With that, he walked briskly back into his office, apparently trying to make a dramatic exit. _He can't even hold a candle to Severus Snape, the Robe-Swishing Wonder, _Harry thought amusedly, mentally laughing over Neville's joke.

Harry, the Marauders, and Lily walked out of the classroom together to Charms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape looking a mixture of resigned and angry at them, probably due to the fact that Lily was laughing at something James had said. He contemplated going over and trying to cheer him up, but decided against it. It was hard enough spending time in 1977 without a spiteful future-teacher to worry about.

Before they knew it - or at least just Harry - they had reached the Charms classroom on the fourth floor. Professor Flitwick was sitting precariously on a pile of books, observing them coming into his classroom merrily.

"Hello class!" He said exuberantly, beaming at them merrily. There were mumbled hellos mixed with yawns.

"Today we're going to be learning about protective charms. Now protective charms-" Harry stopped listening. He already knew a great deal on the subject, largely due to his time spent on the run from Voldemort/the Ministry. Only McGonagall could really cause him to tune out 100%, but for now he was sufficiently non-coherent. By the end of Charms, he had deftly re-learned how to cast a permanent-shield charm and a Muggle-Repelling charm, the second of which he learned a lesser variation of.

By the time lunch was over and he was in Magical Healing and Remedies class, he was officially bored. Regular classes just weren't very interesting now that he knew most of the things they were talking about. Luckily, he had never been to a Healing class before, so he was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be an extremely interesting and beneficial class. That day, he had learned to conjure bandages, and to create a basic Pepper-Up potion. He was pleased he had chosen this class, even though the only people he recognized in it were Lily, Alice Stanton (the future Mrs. Longbottom), Snape, and that girl Lucy-something from Defense the other day.

"Now leave!" Madame Pomfrey commanded at the end of class. "And take your Pepper-Up potions with you, they'll come in handy some day. No homework." The class gave a small cheer.

"This class is _so_ interesting and cool!" Alice gushed to Lily in front of him. "I'm hoping to be a St. Mungo's healer once I graduate, did I tell you that?" Lily nodded.

"Only every day, Alice," she said dryly, though without malice. "I haven't decided what I want to be. Maybe a teacher, or an Auror."

"An Auror!" Alice exclaimed, aghast. "But that's so dangerous now, with all this You-Know-Who business!"

"All the more reason to help." Lily said, standing firm. Alice looked concerned.

"I guess its a very honorable thing to do. Maybe it can be my back-up, if healing doesn't work out. It would be so much fun to work with you!" Harry looked down, not allowing them to see the clouded look that had come over his expression. _She's so sweet and naive. If only she had stuck with healing, then she would still be sane in my time. _

"We have to go to History of Magic, Harry. You know how to get to Care of Magical Creatures class, right?"

"Yeah, I can find it." Lily looked uncertain.

"Your sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"If you say so... c'mon, Alice." And the two girls walked away quickly. Harry headed to Care of Magical Creatures, reaching for his essay in his bag. He had only just found it stuck between two pages of his "Advanced Potions" book, when he arrived near Hagrid's Hut for class. He handed the professor his slightly crumpled paper, and went to sit my himself on a bench. The Marauders were there, but he was wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"Okay, class. Today I have a real treat for you." Harry looked up, slightly interested. He was well aware that this was a much different kind of class than he had had with Hagrid, but he couldn't help but to be interested. Hagrid's idea of "a treat" was a Hippogriff or some other dangerous creature.

"I have managed to get my hands on-" he paused for dramatic effect. "-the magical variation of the Python, formally known as the _Crudus Largus_." He swished his wand wordlessly, and there in front of Harry appeared... Nagini.

AN: ooh! cliffie! Heh heh. Again, these chapters just keep getting longer!

~Aquahina


	6. Suspicion

Disclaimer: As I am not a 40-something, blonde, millionaire, brit; therefore, I do not own Harry Potter. I don't even own a cookie. *cries silently*

**Chapter Six: Suspicion**

_Who daresss to capture me for sssuch sssilly means? _Nagini hissed angrily.

Harry was stunned. It was a stroke of bad luck that any snake had been brought to class, as Harry couldn't seem to speak English while looking at it, but it was another thing altogether to have _Nagini _in the same area as his parents and friends. She was held in what seemed to be a full-body bind curse, but as it was meant for humans, she could still... "talk." Harry refrained from speaking to her with some difficulty.

"Now who can tell me what the main differences are between a non-magical and a magical python?" A Slytherin girl was called on.

"A magical python has more deadly venom, longer fangs, and can slither faster than the non-magical. It is also rumored to understand humans."

_Of courssse, I am hardly even related to thossse whimsssical excusssesss for pythonsss. Non-magical pythonsss are jussst watered down versionsss of our perfection. Rumored to underssstand humansss... Pssshaw! _Nagini hissed as arrogantly as could be achieved while in a body-bind curse.

"Very good, Miss Deux. Now, as the snake is currently incapacitated, you are welcome to come up and touch it if you like," the teacher said.

It! _I will not allow thossse impure imbecilesss to touch me! Only a ssspeaker ssshall be permitted! _But despite the snakes adamant refusal to be touched, students cautiously came forward and petted her. Harry, however, stayed back. As a future-Horcrux (he was fairly sure she hadn't met Voldemort) and a murderer, he wasn't too keen to touch her.

"Scared, Jameson?" Severus Snape spat, his voice cut into his mental reverie; reminding him forcefully of Malfoy. "So much for the Gryffindor bravery and courage." Harry bristled, and spoke.

"I'm not scared of a itsy-bitsy-" (Nagini hissed through her closed teeth) "-snake. That would be almost as stupid as being scared of a Slytherin, and we all know _they're_ nothing to be worried about." Some of the Gryffindors listening in laughed in agreement.

"Then go touch it, if you're so brave," the greasy student sneered.

"Sure. No problem," Harry retorted confidently. Snape looked disappointed, as if he'd hoped Harry would go running off screaming. Harry walked through the small fence's gate to the professor, who was holding Nagini with thickly gloved hands. He reached out and touched her scales, his fingers slipping over the smooth armor.

_Ssspeaker! _Harry started. How could she tell?

_Why do you not anssswer me when I cry for help? Ssset me free of this missserable confinement! _Harry swallowed, forcing himself not to answer. He withdrew, walking back through the fence to join the bulk of the class.

_Ssspeaker! Pleassse! Help me! _The-Boy-Who-Lived bit his lip. _Damn my hero complex._

_Why do you ignore me, Ssspeaker? Anssswer me, massster! _Harry had to stop himself from doing a double-take. _Master? _He thought incredulously.

_I don't know if this is an amazing stroke of luck, or an incriminating one. How can I be her master? That's Voldemort... unless he hasn't met her yet. _The scarred boy blinked, in light of his epiphany. _I can't mess with time though, no matter how many people's lives it would save if I warned her against him. If she didn't join him, she wouldn't be a Horcrux, and therefore we may not have been able to find the real one, meaning Voldemort wins the war! _he thought in alarm.

Harry looked around. Luckily, nobody noticed the intense staring going on between the human and the snake, as they were all busy goading each other to touch the large reptile.

_Muffliato! _He said, and then answered the snake. _I'll come back to visssit you sssometime, jussst not now, _he hissed under his breath; hoping she could hear him. She looked appeased, though not exactly happy.

_Yesss, massster. _She said. She sounded slightly resigned at the fact that he couldn't talk now, but Harry decided that was to be excepted if you had nothing else to do all day long. He muttered a quick counter curse, and the Muffliato Charm vanished. Again, he looked around. For once, his luck had held, and no one was looking his way. With a relieved sigh, he looked up from Nagini's baleful eyes, and paid attention.

Finally, it was 6:00, and Harry's most stressful class yet was finished. Harry trailed behind the strangely excited Marauders, not really paying attention to what they were talking about. He stared up at the castle. The grey stone seemed to look back on him, light shining through it's windows into the twilight. He was sufficiently tuned out, and only his years of having evil, Harry-hating wizards after him made him hear the next bit of whispered conversation between Peter and James.

"-you sure?" Peter said a bit anxiously. "The potion has been out of the radar for nearly 50 years."

"Relax, Wormy. Moony said it's all right, and we all know by now that Moony is always right, annoying as it is." James sighed as Remus snickered. By this time, Harry was paying full attention. "Anyways, it's too late now, we've already added it to the-" James was about to continue before Sirius slapped his hand over his mouth, eyeing Harry. "MMPH!" Sirius whispered something unintelligible into his ear. James looked at Harry sheepishly. Harry grinned back.

"So... did I hear something about an ancient potion?" Harry said, more than slightly maniacal grin growing on his face.

Although Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were silent as the grave about what exactly they were pranking, once they had learned that he had done a fair bit of pranking in his last school, they were much more open with him. They seemed to have forgotten - or at least decided not to care - that Harry wasn't in on their nicknames, and although Harry had refrained from calling them by their Animagi names, they no longer held them back. On the way back to the castle, they had talked, telling Harry about Hogsmeade, girls, previous pranks, and more. Finally, Harry was doing the kind of things he had thought he'd be doing in the past.

"Hey, Moony," Peter said. "-so how did it go with that girl you were telling us about this summer?" Harry turned his head towards the now slightly pink werewolf to listen better.

"Melissa and I are getting along great! I've been writing to her, though I've had to do it through muggle mail." Sirius looked confused.

"I don't get why you're spending so much time with her, Remy. Do you love her or something?" Remus faltered slightly, blushing a little and looking at the wall to his left - away from Sirius.

"N-no, but-"

"They why are you still with her?" He asked, seeming genuinely curious. Remus glared at Sirius, though he didn't look very angry.

"Some people, aka, _normal people, _don't get a new girlfriend every two weeks, Padfoot. You'd be better off following my example!" Peter and James rolled their eyes, obviously having heard this argument many times before. The two seventh years probably would have continued bickering, if they had not reached the portrait of the fat lady.

"Password?" She asked, obviously bored. Peter paled slightly, and turned to James beseechingly. James rolled his eyes.

"Wizengamot," he said, and the portrait opened.

"Wizengamot, wizengamot, wizengamot..." Peter repeated under his breath, trying to memorize it. They entered the common room. The Gryffindor common room was almost exactly the same as Harry remembered it to be in his time. Crimson and gold banners hung around the room, and the room seemed to be centered around the large fireplace, which was crackling merrily. The one thing that was really different was the people. He saw very few familiar people, and when he did, he often did a double-take at the younger faces and bodies.

When Harry was able to tear his eyes off the faces, he noticed their strange (for Harry _or _any muggle) clothing. Adverse to the style of Harry's time, the fashion seemed to be higher pants, loose shirts, and fairly normal shoes. The students' hair was pulled back in numerous styles. Most were in vaguely normal (if a bit longer than Harry was used to), but he noticed two or three that stood out. A man who looked vaguely like Lee Jordan had a large afro protruding 3/4 of a foot from his head. A younger girl - perhaps in second or third year - had bright orange-dyed (or perhaps metamorphagus influenced) hair, cut in varying choppy lengths. A fifth year boy reading a Transfiguration textbook to Harry's right had a mullet falling down to the middle of his back; currently held in a loose ponytail. Harry smirked slightly. He didn't exactly fit in here clothes-wise, anyways.

He wasn't what you could call a stylish person, but Harry's wardrobe consisted of styles obviously not in style. Yet. Harry remembered with a small shudder the day of shopping, about two months after he and Hermione had gotten together. Hermione had rallied Lavender and Parvati; two of the more "girl-ish" people in his year; to help him buy a new wardrobe.

Despite being The-Man-Who-Conquered, he had stayed in Dudley's old clothes for far too long, despite the large amounts of money in his Gringotts account.

Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he hardly noticed when Lily - _my mother! _- came up to him with a friend of hers - whose name Harry didn't know - trailing behind.

"Hey Harry!" Lily said brightly.

"H-hey, Lily. What's up?"

"I just wanted to officially introduce you to my other friend Mary Terpinger." Mary blushed slightly, and shook Harry's offered hand.

Mary was tall, with shoulder length, wavy brown hair and blue eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Mary." He said, smiling slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see James frowning suspiciously at Harry and Lily's interaction. James walked over, and smiled. Lily saw this, and glared. Harry could tell she was about to speak, when James said:

"Hey Harry — do you remember our Charms homework?" Lily looked slightly startled, and shut her mouth quickly, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Is this really the time to be doing homework, James? Dinner is in ten minutes," Harry said amusedly.

"Uhhh... I just wanted to make sure I had it for later tonight when I do it?" He seemed to be questioning himself, as if looking for correction. No one corrected him.

"I don't remember, sorry James. Do you, Lily?" He asked as casually as possible. Lily looked torn. She seemingly couldn't decide between huffing off, and talking to him civilly. _And god forbid you talk to him civilly. _He thought dryly.

"We have to write 10 inches on the pros and cons of the Amorentius Charm." She finally replied. James took note.

"Thanks, Lily. By the way, is there any chance you want to go to Hogsmeade with me the first weekend?" He added it almost as an afterthought, a very good approach, Harry thought, mentally patting his father on the back. Lily glared, though not altogether whole-heartedly.

"Do you really expect my answer to be any different than the last thousand times you've asked me?" she asked, exasperated.

"I always hope, Lily." She blushed slightly at the comment, but quickly banished what seemed to be an offending thought. She hesitated-

"Well, my answer is no." She said, though not seeming angry. James looked put out.

"Okay. Thanks for the homework, anyways." She stared at his retreating figure for a few seconds, then grabbed Mary's hand, and walked out of the portrait hole. Harry smiled, and walked towards James, who was being comforted by Remus and Peter. Sirius was upstairs putting their books back.

"She'll crack one of these days, Prongs." Remus said sympathetically, patting his back. Peter nodded, adding:

"Y-yeah. Don't worry." James didn't look comforted.

"I don't know, guys. She really is set in her ways..." James said uncertainly. Harry frowned.

"I'll bet you 20 galleons she comes around before the end of school this year." He said confidently. The Marauders (minus Sirius) had not noticed him walking up, and looked startled at his comment. James looked up.

"Really? What makes you think so?"

"Well, she doesn't like you because of what she calls your arrogance and bullying, and you haven't done any pranks specifically on Snape this year." Though he didn't say it, Harry thought that 5th year and perhaps 6th year James had been a bit of a bully, but he didn't comment. "Plus, she hesitated just a bit before declining your invitation to Hogsmeade." James's eyes lit up. Remus narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Really?" He straightened up, apparently strengthened by the thought that she might like him, even a little.

"I saw it too, Prongs, but I didn't comment." Remus said. "Don't get your hopes up too much-" But James was already striding out the door, grinning ear to ear. Peter and Remus sighed simultaneously.

"You do realize that we're taking you up on that 20 galleon bet, right?" Remus said. Harry grinned, knowing there was no way he would lose this particular bet.

"Yep! I'm serious." Remus grinned widely, obviously anticipating a large sum of money at the end of the year.

Though Harry was hungry, he ate very little that night. The Marauders' plans for a prank had not forsaken him, and he had no wish to be a part of something ridiculous, even if it was far more likely that it would be only on the Slytherin house.

Everyone looked surprised when not just Slytherins, but various people from all houses (Harry not included, to his great relief) stood up simultaneously, walked up to Dumbledore with blank faces, kneeled, and started chanting,

"All hail the King of Lemondrops," repeatedly. Everyone laughed, and no detention was given, to their great delight. Apparently, the corned beef had been prank-poisoned. Snape, Harry noticed, was looking a mix of astounded (he hadn't eaten the corned beef) and suspicious. Lily was smiling discreetly, obviously amused, but attempting not to show "those stupid Marauders" that she thought so. She also seemed pleased that it was not targeted on one particular person, but aimed at a random selection.

The end of dinner found the members of the seventh year boys' dorm spread over the Gryffindor common room and dorm. Remus was sitting in front of the fireplace with a book in his hands. James and Sirius were somewhere upstairs - probably planning their next prank. Peter was nervously trying to chat up a disinterested blonde, and Harry was multitasking — watching his parents and their friends, and reading his copy of "3000 Useful Charms You Didn't Know About." He was currently learning about the Shoelace-Tying Charm.

Before he knew it, the common room was nearly empty. The only ones left were two cramming fifth years, a snoring first year, and him. He closed his book audibly, the pages snapping together. Once he reached his dorm, he opened the door silently as not to disturb the Marauders. He doubted they would be asleep, but if they were, he didn't fancy being pranked. Sure enough, when he entered, only Peter was asleep. James, Sirius and Remus were huddled on Sirius's bed discussing something in low voices.

"-sure?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"Yep. Tonight-" But Remus paused, looking at Harry. "We'll talk later." The others glanced at Harry, nodded and went to their respective beds. Harry felt slightly suspicious (and a little excluded) but he let it go. It was most likely something about a prank, or a full moon. He got into his pajamas quickly, and lay in bed. Soon, he was sound asleep.

After Harry's breath evened out, Sirius, James and Remus sat up quietly. Sirius looked questioningly at Peter. James shook his head. Peter absolutely _hated_ being woken up. Apparently, he needed his "beauty sleep." The three boys walked out of the room silently, James carrying his invisibility cloak, and Remus the map. Once they had shut the door, James threw the cloak over the three of them. It reached only to their ankles, so they bent down over the Marauder's Map, concealing their feet.

They shuffled through the castle, freezing only once when a patrolling teacher passed. Finally, they reached a large tapestry with currently sleeping people pictured on it. After checking that there was no one close to them, James pulled the cloak off and paced back and forth three times. Promptly, the tapestry seemed to fall away, leading into a well lit red and gold room. The room was apparently well-visited. It resembled the Gryffindor Common room slightly with it's color theme, but the real differences lay in the furnishings. The ever-burning fireplace in the common room was not present here, and the four walls were each covered with different things, and with a different crest.

On the wall to the left, there was a green banner depicting a brown rat with a castle in the background. Beneath the banner, there was a shelf holding a few mementos. It was rather sparse compared to the rest of the walls, holding only a few pictures of the Marauders, and a prank in which robotic, pink rats were swarming the Transfiguration classroom.

The next was was crammed full of items; mainly books. The titles ranged from "Pulling the Perfect Prank: An Art Form," to a copy of "Funny Points in History," a book Harry had in his chest a few floors above them. There was also a collection of glass figurines: a large wolf, a stag, a grim-like dog, and a rat who were playing animatedly on their shelf. Next to them, there was a large stack of pictures of the Marauders themselves, with a few added pranks. Above the shelf, there was a blue flag of a smiling wolf's head coming ghost-like out of a book.

The wall directly in front of them was filled with a medley of items. A few books, ("So You Want to be an Animagus?", "500 Famous Pranks", and "Choosing Your Animal Form" among them) a carefully organized space filled with seemingly random items; a owl-feather quill, a fourth-year Charms textbook, a few erasers, and two essays written by a certain redhead. On the bottom three shelves there were the remains of various pranks, spanning from a scrawled list of spells and the stepped-on bits of a blue bouncy ball; to a pile of ripped off Slytherin crests (previously sewn on robes) and a modified one next to it. (The modified one was the same color green, but had the word, "Sucker!" written on it in pink ink. Above the display, there was a red banner with a rearing silver stag next to a large tree with white flowers on it.

On the last wall was similar to the previous one; the outstanding differences being that there were no books or shelf devoted to Lily Evans. The bits of pranking material was also different. On this shelf, there was a large slightly dripping can of red and gold paint, a few empty bottles of hair dye, another ripped off Slytherin crest, and a picture of a greasy haired (then) fifth year hanging upside-down with various hair products and whirling around him. There was also a pricey-looking photo album over-stuffed with unseen pictures. Above, there was a gold banner with a black dog slinking along the bottom, grinning creepily. Above the dog was a gold spiral with a black wand in the middle.

But Moony, Padfoot and Prongs did not go to the walls. They walked purposefully to a circular table in the center of the room; Each of them with their back to their individual wall. In the center of the table was a large red book with the words, "Adventures of the Marauders" written on it in gold ink. The boys looked solemn. There was a moment in which they shuffled in their seats, getting comfortable, before Remus spoke.

"I, Remus Lupin or Moony, hereby announce the 347th Marauders Meeting." He pulled the book towards him - seemingly out of habit, but ignored it, instead pulling out a blue notebook from his robes pocket. He flipped through the pages until reaching a blank one in the middle. "We are here today to discuss the new member of our dorm, Harry Jameson and the problems and oddities that seemed to have come with him. Let the meeting begin." At once, James started speaking.

"I know that he is new, but I haven't noticed anything odd enough about him to warrant a meeting. What do you mean by that, Moony?"

"Good question, Prongs," Remus answered formally, straightening up in his chair. "I've noticed a few strange things about him. First of all, the fact that he has entered anytime after the first year at all. 'Hogwarts, a History-'" James and Sirius groaned, "-has never said anything about students coming in late. Also, he seems to know things he shouldn't. First of all, did any of you mention any pranks which involve using _Levicorpus _on anyone?" Silence. "Or the fact that he seems to know his way around the castle perfectly?" No one spoke. "It took us months to get the castle memorized, and we didn't even find the kitchens until second year, or any passages until third! How is it possible that he could figure this out in less than a week?" The non-slumbering Marauders thought in uncharacteristic silence. Finally, Sirius spoke.

"I can't think of a single way he could've known this, unless he'd already been here for a few months, or knew us already. So what do you think is up? Do you think he's a _Death Eater_?" He whispered his last words, seemingly unwilling to let them exit his mouth. Remus bit his lip pensively.

"I don't know. I don't think so... if he was one even in disguise, I doubt the Sorting Hat would've put him in Gryffindor. But I'm sure there are ways he could've switched it, or fooled it somehow. I've heard about this mind-blocking technique called Occlumency in a Defense book before..." he trailed off.

"Until you mentioned it, Remus, I didn't notice anything wrong or unusual about him, other than he doesn't like to talk about his past. But that isn't exactly unusual, with You-Know-Who around and so many people dying. I'm willing to give him a chance," James said.

"_What?_" Sirius cried, ignoring Remus' shushing. "If there's any chance he's dark, why should we let him anywhere near us? I say we ignore him. That way he won't have anything to report about us to his _master_." Remus furrowed his brow, undecided.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Padfoot." Sirius spluttered. "What if he turns out to be good? We could loose a possible friend. But we still haven't talked about one of the most important subjects. Full moon."

Talking ceased immediately, and each of they looked worried and apprehensive. Finally, Remus spoke again. "It'll be much less suspicious if just I go, using one of my old excuses. If all four of us disappear, he won't think anything about it."

"No!" Sirius and James chorused, twin-like. James continued.

"We aren't letting you go along, Moony. We became Animagi to help you, and letting you be alone and in pain would be abandoning our job." Remus looked resigned, but relieved.

"Thanks, guys," he said softly. James looked abashed.

"Now don't go sappy on us, Remy. C'mon. Back to the discussion - full moon, remember?" Remus's face returned to it's grave expression.

"Yeah. We have a few options here. One; we can make some excuse and go out every moon. This would be the easiest, but if he doesn't turn out to be a Death Eater, then it could wreck the understanding we currently have. Two, now don't interrupt, it's just an option - I could go alone." He paused, and licked his bottom lip nervously. "Or three... we could tell him, and hope for the best." There was stunned silence for a second. The two non-werewolves looked slightly hurt.

"Tell him?" Sirius exclaimed. "Not only is he probably a Death Eater, but he might be lycanthrophobic!"

"Yeah, Moony, you didn't even tell us; and you knew us for two years before we figured it out! Why are you so willing to tell this possibly dangerous person?" Remus sighed at James's comment.

"When did 'might be a Death Eater,' turn into 'probably a Death Eater'?" Remus asked, his brow furrowing. "And... I honestly don't know, guys. It's almost like I've know him for years, or—"

"Hmmm... maybe because he looks _exactly like me_?" James said sarcastically. Sirius scoffed in agreement.

"No! I mean, it's a creepy coincidence, but it's just... different, you know?" Remus said, trying in vain to get his point across. James turned serious.

"Actually, Moony has a point." Padfoot's mouth dropped open. "I do feel like I've met him before somewhere... I just wish I knew where."

"You can't be serious." Sirius said, for once not using the 'serious/Sirius' name joke. "I can't believe you guys are even _considering_ telling him!"

"Also!" Remus said, speaking loudly over the complaints. "He's known a werewolf before. I overheard him say that he's really close to him, he thinks he's just like a normal guy." Remus smiled slightly. James and Sirius looked surprised and relieved, though not sated.

"That's great, Remus, but I still don't think that warrants us telling him..." Sirius continued hesitantly.

"You're not listening! If he knows a werewolf already, then don't you think that he just might notice that at least one of his dorm mates goes out every full moon? It'll be a million times easier for him to piece together since he already has experience! It will be a lot less awkward for us to tell him ourselves then for him to stumble upon it. Plus, you guys are my best mates, no question, but this is my secret to tell." Lupin stood firm in his beliefs, unwavering.

Sirius and James were silent. James's face was open, looking worried, proud, and hesitant all at once. Sirius's face, however, was guarded and stony, unwilling to give away any thoughts he may have been concealing.

"You're right. If you want to tell him, that's your deal. But leave me out of it." Sirius said brusquely. "Unless you can prove to me that he's not a Death Eater, and not a threat, then I'm not going to be happy with it." James sighed, looking torn.

"Remus, like Padfoot, I think this is definitely your decision to make, but I really don't think it's a good idea to let him into our 'Inner Circle' so to speak before making positively sure of his stance on the war."

Remus sighed. "I agree, I guess, but how can we really be sure?" Silence encompassed the room, a highly unusual phenomenon. Finally, Sirius spoke.

"Actually, I have an idea..."

The next morning, Harry work well rested, in contrast to Sirius, James, and Remus. It was the first night he'd gotten a really good night of sleep without being hindered with dreams of his past. After finally getting used to being back at Hogwarts, he was homesick.

He smiled, remembering when he had considered Hogwarts his first real home. He missed his wife, Hermione. He missed his friends (Ron especially) and he missed just being back in his own time when he didn't have to be so secretive.

He dressed semi-consciously, wrapped up in his thoughts. Maybe it was a product of being somewhere not his own time, but he was becoming less war-torn in his day to day life. He had almost stopped his constant assessing of his surroundings, and stopped seeing everyone he met as a threat. _Ironic, as Voldemort is actually alive in this time, opposed to mine. _He smiled sadly, remembering all the pain that particular vendetta had caused.

He barely noticed Sirius's obvious stares and James sideways glances, and was completely ignorant of Remus's watchful eye upon him. Peter hadn't noticed yet either, as he was scrambling on his hands and knees to retrieve a wrinkled school robe from under his four poster bed.

"Breakfast?" James asked to the room in general once Peter had retrieved his robe.

"Breakfast." Harry confirmed, nodding. They walked genially down to the Great Hall, making small talk all the way along. At this point, Harry had become a bit suspicious. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he dug into his toast and scrambled eggs. When the mail arrived, he was glad to see Izlanzi (in owl form, of course) swooping gracefully and landing on his arm.

_Hello, Harry, _she said. _How has your day been?_

_A bit strange so far, actually. The Marauders seem to have changed their ideas about me overnight. _

_You can't blame them, really. You're the mysterious new person. The new, shiny toy._ _It'll probably add up to nothing. _

_Yeah... I suppose so... _he trailed off. Despite her many years of wisdom, Izlanzi didn't know the Marauders as well as he did, even if he knew two of them mostly by reputation. He highly doubted they would leave it alone.

"So... Harry. Do you have a girlfriend?" James asked seemingly casual. Harry smiled a little internally. _Probably making sure I'm not going after Lily. _

"Yeah, I'm going out with a girl named Hermione." He smiled dreamily at her thought. What he would do to have her here... He looked towards Sirius, waiting for the innuendo that was sure to come, but none came. Sirius remained tight lipped and straight backed, looking more like the rest of his family than he probably ever had. James looked slightly uncomfortable at Sirius's loaded silence.

"T-that's nice..." James said rather weakly, though he looked relieved. The rest of the meal was spent in general silence. In fact, besides small talk, Harry barely spoke to them that day, though not for lack of trying. Remus seemed stressed and nervous, James seemed uncomfortable, Sirius angry, and Peter utterly out of the loop. Only after he had gone away with James for a second, apparently to catch him up on something, did he have a point of view on this confusing matter. Peter's emotion turned out to be nervous anger.

Finally, after their last classes were finished, and Harry had returned from Dueling sweaty but energized, did they make their move. It was rather late by then, and only the four boys remained in the common room. They were lounging in arm chairs, eating and drinking snacks Harry assumed they had gotten from the kitchens. Remus glanced up, smiled slightly, and gestured to the last remaining seat.

"Butterbeer?" Peter offered. Harry grabbed it without a thought, glad to have any liquid to quench his tired thirst. He tipped the goblet's contents into his mouth, gulping down the satisfying liquid. Suddenly, something felt off. He set it down, and glanced around them with the feeling of a cornered animal. _Are they trying to goad me into something? _He wondered. Sirius was the first to speak, looking triumphant and slightly predatory, his long black hair casting shadows over his eyes from the firelight.

"So. Who are you _really_?" Harry started, but against his will, words were pulled from his lips.

"Harry James Potter."


	7. Truth and Deception

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; as it is not currently for sale on eBay... damn J.K Rowling and her marketing skills...

(In addition, this disclaimer counts for the last chapter as well, as I forgot to add it)

AN: So... how do you like it? Sorry it took me so long to update. I was being lazy... :D

_Chapter Seven: Truth and Deception_

James blinked. Harry's answer had not yet computed with him. Harry James _Potter_? True, Potter wasn't exactly the least common name, but in the Wizarding world, there were no such thing as Purebloods having the same last name and not being related. Muggleborns - yes, it happened once in a while - but Wizarding last names were symbolic, and because of that, this was not small matter. It was only probable that he was related to James.

"Potter?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Yes. My name is Harry James Potter." Harry was emotionless and humorless - a side effect of Veritiserum. Sirius, Peter and Remus said nothing, speechless for once.

"Are you related to James?" Sirius asked, strangely... well... serious.

"Yes." Confusion.

"How are you related to me?" In other circumstances, this wouldn't have been a question he would ask, as they had already figured out that they were related, but he had never seen his name on the Family Tapestry stationed in their house. But nothing prepared him for the answer.

"I'm your son." There was silence. Peter's mouth was agape, wordless. Remus's knees had given out, and he was slumped on the floor, staring at Harry. You could see the wheels turning in his head. Sirius's eye was twitching, and he looked almost on the brink of a rather insane burst of laughter; something he often did when he was shocked. James, Harry's _supposed_ father, was taking it the best, surprisingly. He was blinking rather fast, and looked slightly confused. He tilted his head to the side. Suddenly, Sirius spoke. Or shouted, rather.

"WHAT THE HELL?" His outburst seemed to bring the others out of their trance. Remus stood up, and was narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Harry, as if trying to work something out. Sirius was whispering cuss words under his breath, and studying Harry angrily. Peter had taken over James's job of blinking confusedly. It wasn't for about a minute or so that they realized James had fainted dead away.

Usually, this would be the point of constant teasing, but the other marauders couldn't exactly blame him. Remus grabbed the bottle of Veritiserum from Sirius's gesturing hands, and sniffed it for a second. As it was odorless, he frowned, and carefully tasted a tiny bit. His eyes glazed over, and then a second later, he seemed to come back to consciousness.

"It's Veritiserum. He's telling the truth." He shook James roughly. James awoke, took in his surroundings, jumped up, and began firing questions off to Harry, who answered just as quickly.

"How did you get here?"

"McGonagall, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Potter." Again, James looked surprised at Hermione's last name, but said nothing, leaving it to another time.

"So you're my son?"

"Yes."

"Why..." He struggled to find another important question. "Why are you here?"

"I was tricked by the aforementioned people, though I have few complaints about being here."

"What year are you from?"

"2009."

"Am I still alive?" Harry paused, for the first time, looking as if he was struggling against the potion. Finally:

"No." No one spoke. James looked dumbstruck, and saddened. For only the second time since first year, Sirius was crying openly. He made no sound, but tears rolled down his chin, dripping onto the gold carpet. Remus was looking down, no doubt wondering if he had made any contribution to their deaths. Peter was obviously petrified.

"So my ... my _wife_ raised you?" Sirius would've snickered, if it weren't for the dire circumstances.

"No. Petunia and Vernon Dursley did." James looked confused, though depression was still his more dominant emotion.

"Who are they?"

"Petunia is my mother's sister, and Vernon is her husband." For the first time, Remus asked a question.

"Who is your mother?"

"Lily Evans-Potter." James's mood improved quite drastically, for someone who learned they will die within a few years. He smiled largely, though it wavered slightly uncertainly.

"Did'ya hear that, Padfoot?" He said to Sirius. "I'm getting married to L-Lily." Sirius looked happy for his best friend, and looked as though it hurt him to ask, but he spoke.

"Is Lily alive?" James's head shot up. He obviously hadn't connected that it was unlikely Lily was alive.

"No." James collapsed upon himself, crumpling bonelessly. Sirius gulped, but kept a level head.

"How did she die? And how did James die?"

"Voldemort," Harry answered - his distaste for the man seeping through into his speech despite the effects of Veritiserum. Only Peter jumped. The potion seemed to be wearing off. Harry was blinking, and it was obvious that they had barely a few seconds left to ask a question.

"Who is Hermione Potter?" Remus croaked.

"My... wife?" He said. He blinked, and sat up. Harry furrowed his brow. _What happe-. Oh s***._ Harry's eyes widened. _This wasn't supposed to happen! I can't change time! I've got to Oblivate them... Crap. I don't know how. Of all the-. _He broke off his thoughts, and turned towards them, his face steely.

"Veritiserum? Isn't that... oh, I don't know... _illegal_?" He tried to look angry, but his overriding emotion was currently fear. His head was whirring. _Should I tell Dumbledore? He could fix it. Or McGonagall. She'd be less likely to try learning the future from me 'For the Greater Good.' As much as I look up to him, Dumbledore can be pretty blind sometimes..._

He trailed off into his thoughts. He turned to them. He tried to summon up his anger, but he simply couldn't. His father, godfather, and one of his most respected and loved adult-figures had just learned that one of them was going to die, along with their wife. He turned to Peter - who was on his opposite side - finally allowing himself to pull all his features into a death glare. _The rat_. He glared at the fearful, sniveling figure for a few more seconds, allowing all his hate to focus on the human... no. _Thing_ in front of him, then whipped around, and walked out the portrait hole.

...o0O0o...

"ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" He roared, his angry voice echoing through the cavernous hallways of the castle. Usually, he would be running for his life about now, keeping away from teachers, but instead of hurrying, he strode forcefully down the corridor to his right, towards the Room of Requirement, where nobody would find him. Maybe it was accidental magic in the form of a disillusionment charm or a distraction jinx, but no one noticed the fuming boy as he walked through the corridors despite the fact that he had passed both an angry McGonagall and a jubilant Filch on his way to the tapestry. Finally, he reached his destination. Not bothering to keep his wishes to himself, he spoke aloud.

"I need a place to sleep and think. I need a place to sleep and think." On his third request, the tapestry formed a door, and he yanked back the handle and strode in. The room was exactly what Harry needed. It was large, but not cavernous, allowing a comfortable feel. It was outfitted into four sections; a bedroom with a shelf of fiction and time travel books, a bathroom, a living room that was similar to the Gryffindor Common Room, and a small muggle-style kitchen. There was a large window on the front wall. Harry noticed with surprise that the room seemed to have summoned his trunk, for it sat next to his bed.

As soon as he closed the door, and it morphed back into a tapestry, Harry's shoulders slumped. He suddenly felt weary. As if he had just run a hundred miles. He dragged himself over to a armchair in front of a smoldering fire, and let himself relax. For the first time, he allowed his thoughts to wander from anything other that what McGonagall and Hermione had instructed him to do.

_What if I just left it at this, and told them about the future? How different would everything be when I returned? Would everyone still be dead? Would _more_ people be dead? _He sighed. Nothing ever came easy for him. Suddenly, Izlanzi appeared in his room in a column of flame.

_Harry! _She cried, sounding distressed. _Are you all right? I felt your pain!_

"It's fine, Izlanzi," he said, not bothering to think. Just to speak. "It was mental pain." She relaxed slightly at that, but still looked very worried. She morphed into what Harry thought was a concerned-looking mountain lion. _That is barely better, human child. Mental pain is often far worse and much more lasting._

This was very true, Harry knew. He had known enough people who had died to be positive about it_. I know_. He snuggled up against her, and she wrapped her body (which had shrunk into a smaller - but still wild looking - feline) around him. She was very warm, and having her in his lap soothed him enormously.

"What am I going to do, Izlanzi?" He asked after a few minutes.

_That all depends on you, Harry_. She answered_. You are at a crossroads. You can either take the road more traveled, or one you make yourself, with nothing to guide you. But if you succeed in your own direction, the destination will be much more favorable. Just remember to avoid the thorn bushes on the way there_. If anyone else had said this, Harry would have laughed out loud at the sheer amount of riddles and mystic warning in it. But the Man-Who-Conquered remained serious.

_I could save them_. He thought_. They would all be alive! But that's not really the question here. Am I willing to possibly give up other people and friendships in order to save them? _

...o0O0o...

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were sitting silently in the common room, mulling the recent events over in their heads. Sirius was now dry-eyed, and had taken on a stony, determined look. James was sitting limply, his head bent back on the top of a chair, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. Peter was shivering, still not recovered from the look Harry had given him. Remus was listing question after question they should have asked in his head, trying to distract himself from the fact that one of his best friends was going to die soon. Harry had grown up with the Durpeys, or Dursleys, or whatever, so he had to have spent almost all of his life without James and Lily.

If that was true, James would die in just a few years! He wondered why Harry hadn't grown up with Sirius or Peter. Well, more like Sirius. Peter would forget to feed him. He shivered involuntarily at the thought. He knew he wouldn't have taken him in, with his condition, but why didn't Sirius? He was sure he was made his godfather... something must have happened. _Maybe he... moved._ Remus thought lamely, trying to keep his mind off the most likely and most unfortunate reason Harry wouldn't have grown up with Sirius. His death.

Finally, James spoke. "Where did H-Harry go?" He stumbled over his future-son's name. Sirius pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocked in a daze, and swept his eyes over it. Roger Parkinson and Daphne Wood were in a closet on the second floor, but other than that, the school seemed to be lacking any student out of bed. Sirius watched as the footsteps of McGonagall uncovered the two. She stood there for a few seconds, presumably yelling, then walked the two back to the Slytherin and Ravenclaw common rooms. Still no Harry.

"Where is he, Padds?" James asked again, more urgent this time.

"He's not on here." Remus and James turned their heads sharply towards the handsome boy pouring over the map. "He must be in the Room of Requirements. There's no way he couldn't have gotten off the school grounds so fast, even if he used a secret passageway."

James relaxed, but Remus looked worried.

"When do you think he'll come out?" The werewolf asked. James looked unconcerned.

"The room doesn't bring food, for some reason," he said. "He'll have to come out pretty soon." Remus didn't look comforted.

"That doesn't mean he'll be coming back to school, though. You know as well or better than I that it's fairly easy to sneak around the castle at night. He could go out only at night, and unless we started patrolling the corridors, we wouldn't know." James had no response. He was obviously not thinking much of the problem at hand - he was more wrapped up in his recent epiphany involving his marriage to Lily Evans, the birth of his son - who was now his age, and his and his wife's imminent death. Sirius seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Suddenly, Sirius spoke abruptly.

"Why didn't I raise him?" Remus sighed. He'd hoped Sirius wouldn't notice that.

"I don't know, Padfoot. I can't imagine you just letting him go live with anyone else unless something... _happened_ to you." Sirius looked saddened, but not surprised. He'd obviously come to generally the same conclusion as Remus.

"Why didn't Wormtail or Moony raise him then?" Sirius was rather emotionless, speaking in a dull, frank voice that didn't suit his normal behavior. This, however, was not his normal behavior, so one couldn't talk. For the first time, Peter looked uncomfortable, and he scratched his upper left arm unconsciously. He had no response, and looked a bit guilty and shocked. Remus answered.

"Well, I have my furry little problem, and Peter... I don't know about Peter. Maybe he was... too - uh - busy or something." This response sounded lame and unconvincing even to Remus's ears. Though none of them wanted to say it, they couldn't imagine Peter taking in a child, even if it was one of his best friends. He was bad with children to the point of slight hilarity, and could be rather mean at times. Remus banished the thought immediately. It wouldn't do to be thinking against a fellow marauder.

"M-maybe I'm on a m-m-mission... or something..." Peter stuttered, looking thoroughly flustered. James had been silent for the last few minutes. Suddenly,

"I can't believe Harry is my _son_." Remus couldn't hold back a smile. Adverse to Peter, James would be a perfect father he could tell. James had admitted to Remus alone that Dumbledore had offered him the spot of Head Boy, but he'd declined. He liked the idea of being able to help the younger students, but he was already Quidditch Captain, and a marauder on top of that, so he didn't want even less time for himself. Remus felt a slight swell of pride that James had confided in only him. One of the few good things that had come with his werewolfy-ness (in addition to stamina, and good hearing and smell) was his ability to keep secrets. Sirius would've laughed, and Peter would've forgotten that it was a secret and brought it up on day-to-day conversation.

"At least I know Lily will finally cave to the Potter charm," he joked, though he was smiling seemingly to himself. "Harry seemed pretty cool, too. He's good looking too. He inherited it all from me." James tried to bring humor into the still grim situation, but only Sirius laughed and commented:

"Are you insulting Lily's beauty, Prongs?" James started, looking horrified with himself.

"What! No! I was- I mean, you know I-" He began to protest, but Peter cut him off, finally joining the conversation - albeit in a quavering voice.

"P-Prongs, we all know you didn't mean it. Your obsession with Lily Evans shouldn't be u-underestimated." Sirius laughed, and Peter looked pleased with himself. After that, however, everyone was silent. Finally after a good fifteen minutes of silence, Remus stood. The others started.

"I'm heading up to bed, guys. It's getting pretty late." Sirius and Peter nodded, and stood to join him. James, however, stayed put.

"I'm going to stay in the common room a little longer. I'll be up in a bit." The others didn't blame him, and said nothing as they ascended the stairwell.

James never did come up to the common room, sitting in the chair all night as he thought over the days events.

...o0O0o...

The next day, Harry ignored his classes. He simply lay on his bed, slipping to and from sleep and thought. He'd finally cracked open the food Hermione had packed, and there was enough for about two weeks, so Harry was sure he would be fine. He'd eaten warm waffles for breakfast, and had just finished lentil soup for lunch.

_Izlanzi? _He called to his phoenix, who was perched sleepily on his bed post.

_Yes, Harry? _She asked.

_Do you want to go for a fly with me? I'm feeling claustrophobic. _Izlanzi looked pleased and excited with the proposal, and she nodded regally in response. She flew to the window and waited for him. He quickly finished washing his dishes, and turned to her. He smiled, and morphed into a beautiful phoenix. Harry's phoenix form was a beautiful sight. He had black tail feathers and wing tips with iridescent white wings and a Gryffindor-red body and head. His head itself was crested with a few black feathers, setting off his emerald green eyes. There was a white stripe between his eyes, similar to his scar.

He swooped over to Izlanzi, and together they flew out the open window. Harry closed his eyes, feeling the wind ripple and caress his feathers. He barely needed to flap his wings, choosing to float on the wind drafts. He dipped his wings, and dove. He went as fast a bullet, easily as fast as his Firebolt at full speed. The ground rushed up to him in record time, and he spread his wings silently - leveling out - and let his claws rustle the grass. He flapped his wings a few times, sending himself back up to Izlanzi, who was flying "normally." (At about 70 MPH.) She seemed amused at his playfulness.

_Let's head over towards the Forbidden Forest, okay? _He suggested. Izlanzi nodded her long, regal-looking neck, and they banked simultaneously_, _flying about ten feet over the tips of the dark trees. Below them, Harry saw flashes of life with his enhanced vision. Large, scuttling spiders, a fox eyeing two rats scurrying through the underbrush, what Harry thought was a unicorn... the list went on and on. They flew for about twenty minutes in silence, the castle having disappeared behind them long ago. They saw the train tracks for the Hogwarts express, and a few muggle cottages connected by a slightly-overgrown dirt road. Finally, when they neared the first village, Izlanzi spoke.

_We should head back, Harry. We can't have any non-magical people seeing us. _Harry understood her point, but couldn't help but sigh at the thought of turning back. Then, he brightened.

_Could I run back in my other form? _She smiled, seeming to approve, and nodded. They flew a bit more, a mile or two past the very last muggle house, then swooped low to the ground and landed. Harry turned back into this normal, human form (he was unable to change directly from form to form - something he had yet to master) and then immediately morphed into a large snow leopard. Like his phoenix form, he had green eyes, though in this form they were ringed with gray-white. He was mostly off white, and covered with black marks, the most unusual of which was a line just above and between his eyes. Again, his scar. He never seemed to be able to escape it.

He crouched, glancing at Izlanzi, who was in the form of a pitch black jaguar, and bounded forward. His movements were fluid, his muscles rippling endlessly under his fur. He wasn't going full speed, running at about 45 MPH. He had huge paws with moon-white claws glinting on them, though they were currently retracted. His ears were turned back to increase aerodynamics, and his mouth was open in a slight snarl, scrunching up his nose and exposing his two inch-and-a-half long fangs on either side of his mouth.

Izlanzi ran in a different way, more... graceful so to speak. Her shoulders seemed not to even move up and down, and if you couldn't see her pounding legs, one might think she was gliding. Her eyes were gold, the same color they usually were, and they were full of determination (they were racing) and fun. They were neck in neck, each having sped up to about 60 MPH, almost at their top speeds. As neither were the actual animal, they were different from the normal large cats. Neither could run so fast for so long, especially jaguars - who spent most of their time stalking or climbing trees.

They ran, barely tiring, for about 45 more minutes, until they had almost reached the castle grounds. They were in the Forbidden Forest, watching the trees blur by. Their reflexes were impossibly quick, and they navigated their way through the dense wood without trouble. At one point, Harry even rocketed off a spider who he thought might be Aragog. He grinned at the memory of the highly aggravated spiders. _That ones for you, Ron, _he thought to himself. Finally, he could see the Hogwarts grounds. It seemed to be a break in classes, or a study period for fifth and seventh years (OWL and NEWT students) because about forty students were outside, lounging in the unseasonably warm weather.

Harry frowned to himself. _This could be a problem. How am I going to get back in? _Though he was thinking mostly to himself, he allowed Izlanzi to answer, and she replied promptly.

_A Disillusionment charm might work, or your invisibility cloak, if you had it. You don't however, so I suggest the charm. _He nodded in agreement and shifted back to his human form, stumbling forward a bit as he did so. He retrieved his wand from his pocket, and tapped himself, silently casting the charm. Izlanzi morphed into the form of a light brown moth, and followed him as he stepped out of the forest, and walked back to the Room of Requirements.

They walked quickly, on the off chance that one of the Marauders was watching the map to see if he moved from the room. He guessed (correctly) that they knew about the room, and would assume that he had gone there. It wouldn't do to have them confront him, invisible or not. He wondered briefly if Izlanzi would show up on the map, then dismissed the thought, deciding to check later on his version.

After about five minutes he arrived at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. He checked to make sure no one was there, thought his request, and walked back into his current living space. He closed the door, and was about to end the Disillusionment charm, when he thought he heard a faint sound. He frowned, then shrugged and dismissed it. Hogwarts wasn't exactly known for being quiet all the time.

...o0O0o...

Outside the Room of Requirements

"AARRRGGGHHH!" James and Sirius yelled together, slamming into the now solid wall as they attempted to enter the just-disappeared door.

...o0O0o...

Harry walked over to his bed, and sat down, leaning over and opening his trunk. He pulled out his two photo albums sentimentally. He missed Hermione and Ron badly. First, he flipped open the one about he and his friends - he didn't really want a reminder of his parents right now. On the front cover, there was a picture of Harry, Ron and Hermione in sixth year, arms over shoulders. Hermione was in the middle, and smiling happily, though not raucously. Harry was to her right, smiling widely. He looked about the happiest he'd been that sixth year - so soon after Sirius's death. Ron was on the left, grinning hugely and laughing. Harry smiled, slightly sadly. What he wouldn't do to have them here with him...

He flipped to the next page. The album began in first year, though there weren't many pictures capturing that year. (Due to the fact that Collin Creevy had yet to come to Hogwarts.) There were six pictures total, one taken from the Hogwarts express (by Molly) of the Weasleys. Hermione was in the back ground, hugging her parents, and you could just see Harry looking out the tinted glass of a train car. That was one of his favorites. He went fairly quickly from there, flipping through pictures of Quidditch games, the Great Hall, the Gryffindor Common Room, Hogsmeade, the Burrow, and many other places. Harry paused at one picturing Fred and George grinning mischievously next to several fuming, pink-haired Slytherins. The last picture was a fairly recent one Harry and Hermione had gotten a passerby to take while they were in a date in Diagon Alley. Hermione was proudly showing off her wedding ring, and picture-Harry was looking at her in adoration.

Feeling suitably homesick - or time sick, you could say - he laid back down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, deciding not to look at the pictures of his parents. He had the real versions of them in this very same building, anyways. Harry smiled ironically. Finally, he had put if off long enough. He _Accio_-ed a piece of parchment and a quill onto his bed, and sat against the wall. He sighed, and dipped the eagle-feather quill into the vial of black ink hovering next to his knee.

"Hmmm..." he said out loud, startling himself with the sound. On the paper, he wrote down two columns, side by side:

**Reasons to tell Parents about the future **

-Prevent their and Sirius's deaths

-I can prank Snape!

-I don't know how to Oblivate

-Voldemort wouldn't be 'dead' for eleven years... in theory

-Kill Moldywart faster, therefore saving many lives

-I get to send Peter to Azkaban

-I want to, despite the risks

-If it works, Hermione won't be as

pissed at me

**Reasons not to tell Parents about the future**

-I might accidentally cause myself not to be born... NOT good

-They might not like me

-Then everyone is still dead

-I can just get a teacher to Oblivate them, or learn how

-Everyone in my time will be majorly P.O'd at me... especially Hermione and Minnie

-I can't avoid them for a whole year

-It might end up making other people die

He chewed the end of his quill thoughtfully, unable to think of anything else to write. He looked down. The winner was "Reasons to tell Parents about the Future" by two reasons. He sighed, resigned to his choice. Now that he had decided, the task of telling them seemed much more daunting. Is there really a good way to tell some of the people you care about the most how they die, and what a horrible future it is?

_I highly doubt it, Harry. _Izlanzi added. Harry started slightly. He hadn't realized he was projecting his thoughts.

_Do you think I'm making the right decision, Izlanzi? _She smiled understandingly, and morphed into a large black dog similar to Sirius's Animagus form - though less grim-like. She walked up to Harry, somehow managing to look regal even with her long, pink tongue lolling out between her teeth. Harry scratched her ears.

_I don't know, Harry. It isn't my place to make this decision for you. Once you do this, there's no going back. _Harry paused, looking serious.

_I know. I just can't bring myself not to tell them. I would have been able to do it if they hadn't known, but erasing their memories now would be like... I don't __know... a crime. Taking away their futures with a wave of a wand. _When the dog made no response, Harry pulled out the Marauder's map to check up on Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Lily.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Harry wondered fleetingly how Fred and George had figured out the password, but banished the thought immediately. _There are much more important things to think about right now. _He scanned the map. Sirius and James were walking rather slowly (looking dejected even on the map) away from the Room of Requirements. Remus was walking out of the Gryffindor Common Room with Savannah Donovan, who Harry vaguely remembered to be a red-headed fifth year. Peter was in the kitchens, surrounded by names such as "Reeby," "Dinky," and "Wardy." Harry snorted in disgust at the thought of the rat. He would have to tell James, Sirius, Remus and possibly Lily without him.

So, he tucked his wand and the map into his robes pocket, closed his trunk and headed to the door. He stood just inside of it, eyes closed in anxious thought. Finally, after a minute of mental preparation, he reached for the handle and yanked it open - revealing the corridor outside. He stepped out, and began jogging in the direction Sirius and James had gone. He was light footed, making no noise as he went. Even if he was sure he was going to tell them, he wanted to see them first - not the other way around.

He caught up with them quickly, then stopped, watching them walk a few steps before he said,

"Hey." They whirled around so quickly Harry almost laughed. Almost. For a second, it looked as if Sirius was going to jump him and hold him down to keep Harry from running away. But he halted as he was bunching his muscles - obviously realizing that Harry planned to stay. He was the one to seek them out, after all. They looked at a loss of what to say, so Harry took initiative.

"We need to talk."

AN: Man! I really have this cliffhanger thing down! anyways... REVIEW! PLEASE! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT!

A POX ON ALL NON-REVIEWERS!

Okay, now that I've got that out of my system... bye! I'll try to update soon, but school just started again, and I haven't had much time to do much besides homework and commute.


	8. Answers

Disclaimer: I walked onto the podium, and tapped the microphone, to make sure it worked. Suddenly, I yelled, "I AM J.K. ROWLING!" to all the television studios over the world, and the 500,000 people in front of me. People swarm around me, and I sign autographs, cleverly disguising my handwriting - the efforts of many hours of tedious practice. Suddenly, a blonde haired woman taps my shoulder. I turn, smiling, ready to sign her autograph book. It's the real J.K Rowling. "You stole Harry from me! I will make you pay!" She tackles me american-football style, and I am plowed down. I surrender, gasping out the truth: "I am not J.K Rowling." the crowd gasps. "I will never own Harry Potter, nor do I now." Everyone forgets about me, and they swarm the real J.K, trampling me. A tear slips down my cheek.

AU: I'm trying to update more often - and I think it's working. Tell me if you like it! BTW, this story isn't supposed to be epic - as you probably have guessed by the speed things are going. It'll probably be around 15-20 chapters long. Enjoy!

Chapter Eight:

James followed Harry silently as he headed towards the Room of Requirement. Sirius, according to the Marauder's Map, (the "newer" version) was rushing up to the Common Room to get Remus. Harry had requested that Peter not be there, to the others' surprise and confusion. But Harry had a feeling they planned to tell him the moment they left the Room. Of course, Harry highly doubted that they would feel the same way after learning of Peter's betrayal.

Harry couldn't help a small grin at that thought. _He's finally getting what he deserves... the rat, _Harry thought. He glanced down at the Map, which he had borrowed from James. Sirius was just exiting the Common Room, with Remus barreling along just behind him. He watched their progress as he walked.

James and Harry had been waiting in rather uncomfortable silence for about a minute when Sirius and Remus joined them, panting, but trying to look dignified anyways. Harry snorted quietly. He had yet to see Sirius dignified in this time period, and barely in his original one.

"Okay, erm..." he started, shifting in place. _This is a lot more uncomfortable than I had hoped... _"Okay! So... follow me." He thought the request for a room. _I want a place to sleep and think. I want a place to sleep and think. I want a place to sleep and think._

The tapestry formed a door, and Harry grabbed the handle - opening it silently. He strode in, and conjured a few sofas and chairs by the fire. He levitated them to be facing each other, then turned. The three Marauders present were looking around the room, taking it in. Sirius's stomach rumbled, and he looked embarrassed - a first. Harry smiled, and flicked his wand wordlessly. Even the Room of Requirements couldn't make food, but it had the supplies to. In the kitchen, ingredients began popping out of cupboards, measuring themselves, and dumping into a bowl. Apparently, they were making scones.

Harry sat, and the Marauders soon filed into the other chairs and couches, lounging comfortably. Harry was silent for a few seconds. Then he sighed, and said,

"Ask away." At once, Harry knew he had put his invitation incorrectly. He was immediately bombarded with questions.

"How did James die?" (Remus)

"What's with the Dursleys?" (James)

"Why didn't I raise him?" (Sirius)

"You know about my... problem - right?" (Remus)

"Where did you get that scar?" (James)

"How did you-" Harry couldn't take it any longer.

"Stop! I'm going to answer your questions." He sighed, realizing for the first time how long this was going to take. "I'm going to have to start from the beginning."

The animagi and the werewolf looked excited.

"About a year before my birth, there was a prophecy." Sirius looked disappointed at the idea of a prophecy, but said nothing. "Unusually enough for prophecies, this one turned out to actually have some merit." All three snorted simultaneously. Harry couldn't help a small grin.

"The prophecy said, _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him... born as the seventh month dies... the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal... and he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not..._

Sirius and James seemed baffled at the significance of this, though Remus looked speculative... then horrified. Before he could speak, however, Harry spoke.

"Basically, this baby turned out to be me."

Remus sighed, having already worked it out. Sirius and James, however were more vocal.

"That... is SO COOL!" Sirius said. James looked torn. He was obviously proud, but also looked confused, and scared.

"You... must have lived a horrible life." He said solemnly. Sirius immediately sobered.

"It wasn't so bad after I left the Dursleys."

"_After _you left the Dursleys?" Remus reiterated, wanting a more in depth answer. The time traveler sighed. He had been hoping to avoid this question.

"The Dursleys... weren't exactly nice to me." James glowered. Remus looked grave.

"Did they... did they hit you?" He asked in a low voice, as if that way it would escape James's notice... which it didn't, judging from James's hawk-like expression.

"Once or twice," he admitted. "But it wasn't like that. It was more like... they didn't really acknowledge my existence as anything other than a house elf." Sirius's eyes were bulging, and he was white_. He, of all people, can sympathize_. Harry thought, remembering Sirius's less-than-welcoming family.

"But how could they just... _ignore_ you? I mean, they had a big ol' human reminder eating with them every meal, living in their house, occupying a room-" before he could think about the repercussions, Harry corrected James.

"Cupboard," Harry corrected without thinking. James seemed not to understand.

"What about a cupboard?" He asked, slightly impatiently. Harry now regretted speaking.

"I... uh - lived in a cupboard." Silence encompassed the room. Harry could've swore Sirius's eyes glinted evilly, and he began muttering something along the lines of "...hit 'em where it hurts..." and "...severing charm should do it..." Harry feared for Uncle Vernon's manhood, then thought better of it, and grinned.

Surprisingly, it wasn't James who exploded.

"WHY THAT BLOODY MOTHER F****** B******!" Remus roared. He then continued to scream profanities on the top of his lungs, impressing all three of the rooms other occupants. James's, Sirius's and Remus's cries for Vernon and Petunia's defeat echoed throughout the chamber, and (Harry was sure) the corridor outside.

It was nearly ten minutes before he could get them to be quiet. He had never told Ron or anybody except Hermione that he had slept there. This was the reason. Though, he had to admit, Hermione's reaction had been far more violent. When everyone was finally settled down (ignoring the harsh glares and muttered threats) Harry continued.

"Well, we're actually getting a bit ahead of ourselves here." He licked his lips nervously. "You wanted to know how Da- I mean, James died, right?" Remus smiled warmly.

"It's fine if you call James "Dad," Harry." Harry blushed slightly, and James nodded. Sirius spoke again.

"Anyways. James d-dying." He spoke in a shaky, non-Sirius-like tone of voice.

"Anyways." Harry continued. "Dumbledore told my mom and dad-"

"Me and Lily!" James said enthusiastically, momentarily forgetting they were talking about his death. His eyes glazed over.

"ANYWAYS! My dad and mom heard the prophecy. But the problem was the Voldemort heard it to- or at least the beginning part." They gasped. Harry had purposely avoided telling them about Snape's part in the story. He may not like the man (okay, he hated him. Big whoop.) but he didn't want him to die.

"This made Voldy worried-" (Harry ignored the gasps and snorts at the nickname) "-and he came after the two children "born as the seventh month dies. The first child was me, the second Neville Longbottom."

"Longbottom? Is he Frank's kid?" Harry nodded sadly, remembering the barely human remains of people Bellatrix had left behind.

"He and his wife, Alice." There were a few smiles, but no one really looked surprised.

"Continue with the story, Harry," Remus said.

"The reason Voldemort chose to come after me was that we are both half-bloods, and therefore he connected more with me - unlike Neville, who is a pureblood." No one spoke, wanting to hear more. Harry took a deep breath. He was used to talking about his parents, but actually telling his father and his two best friends how he would die was a whole different story.

"On October 31st, Voldemort came to our house in Godric's Hollow." There was an intake of breath all around the table. "He killed my dad first, then my mother." James let loose a tear. Harry could tell it was not for himself, but for Lily. Sirius and Remus looked brokenhearted. "My mother died for me, unknowingly giving me a blood protection, one of the strongest shields you can make. Voldemort put the _Avada Kedarva_ curse on me... but it bounced off on me, leaving only my scar." He pulled up his bangs. The three Marauders sat openmouthed and wide-eyed - looking remarkably like fish. They seemed to be struggling to take it in.

Harry continued to tell the story, with all of it's ups and downs. In some ways, it was interesting. He had never had to tell anyone his whole autobiography before. To his chagrin, everyone seemed to already know most of it. However, it was mostly sad. James seemed proud that he had given birth to a troublemaker, though Harry insisted he didn't go looking for it. Harry had just reached his second year, telling about Dobby and the Ford Angelina ("My son is SO COOL!" -James) when Sirius interrupted. He had been looking confused since the beginning of first year.

"If you don't mind, Harry, may I ask a question?" Everyone stared in silent horror.

"Who are you and what have you done with Padfoot?" Remus asked, pointing his wand at Sirius threateningly. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Seriously though, Harry." Harry sighed. He had a pretty good idea of what Sirius was going to ask.

"Where are we?" _Yep, there it is. _Harry didn't even have to ask for a definition.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Sirius looked apprehensive, but nodded slowly.

"You're in Azkaban." Moony, Padfoot and Prongs looked dumbstruck.

"A-A-Azkaban?" James said shakily. Suddenly, the future didn't seem so bad for him. "When were you going to tell us?"

"This all comes up in third year," he answered. "I'll answer all your questions then." They seemed to accept this, but were silent for quite a while, contemplating. After the Chamber of Secrets was finished, Harry began what he was sure (along with fifth and seventh) was going to be the hardest year to talk about. No, it definitely wasn't the scariest, but it brought up so many memories. Of Remus. Sirius. _His _Remus and Sirius, anyways. The older ones. He began with Marge. They (Harry included) all roared with laughter when he recounted that particular event. But right on after it, they grew worried. The grim.

They seemed torn - unsure whether it was Sirius or not. Harry, ever the storyteller, wouldn't tell them. When he came the night bus, however, they were shocked and slightly frightened. Not of Sirius, of course, but for him. They had no qualms that he was innocent. Harry went through his third year slowly. It _was_ an extremely important one. When he began telling about the Hogwarts express, he gave a suppressed grin.

"-no more compartments left except for one in the back. It was empty, except for a teacher." They looked surprised.

"What's a teacher doing on a train?" Remus asked skeptically. "That doesn't seem very responsible. Shouldn't he have gotten there before?" Harry snorted, and decided to draw out the moment.

"He was about 40, or so we thought, and greying. He looked like he'd been run over a bus," Harry continued. Sirius, James and Remus looked alarmed.

"Was he okay?" Sirius asked in a rare show of compassion.

"Well... there's still some skepticism about that. Physically, he was pretty good. Mentally, though, he was completely deranged," Harry said, nodding solemnly. Remus looked scandalized.

"You had a crazy coot as your teacher?" He exclaimed, blanching. Harry couldn't believe he managed to keep from laughing. He guessed his father, young-Sirius and young-Remus didn't recognize his signs like their older selves could.

"Yeah. A total weirdo. Anyways, so Ron and I were eyeing him a bit. Like you guys, we couldn't figure out why he was there. There Hermione, of course, figured out his name. On his suitcase." Harry's eye twitched. "Anyways, so our new, deranged, greying, irresponsible, crazy coot of a teacher's name was... Professor R.J Lupin." There was a moment of silence after Harry's announcement. Then, everyone howled with laughter. James and Sirius were pounding the table, gasping for breath. Remus was laughing, though noticeably less. He looked a bit miffed. Harry let them laugh, smiling.

"But seriously, don't worry, Moony." Remus looked surprised at the use of his nickname. "You were easily our best Defense teacher ever." He looked slightly mollified. "You weren't greying too much, and you were only _slightly_ crazy." This time, Remus laughed whole-heartedly with everyone else.

From there, he began to speed up the process of telling his story. To give them credit, they were excellent at listening to stories. They growled or shouted insults at exactly the right places - coming up with some rather impressive words - and always looked shocked at the ending. When it was revealed Pettigrew was the traitor, they yelled in shock and protest, though Harry notices Sirius looked a bit relieved. He didn't blame him one bit.

The further he went on, the quieter his audience became. The less laughs they had. The more gasps of horror. Sirius had even had a surprising bit of insight, insisting something was wrong with Moody. Fifth year was full of outraged yells, mostly directed at Umbridge. The tore into her about anything and everything from her clothing and appearance, to taking Quidditch away and the blood quill. The marauders had demanded to see Harry's mostly faded "I must not tell lies" scar, and seeing that had seemed to make the idea sink in that Harry wasn't joking. That this really had happened to him.

He spent the most time on his seventh year, going into detail about the Horcruxes, the tension between Ron and Hermione, and their various break-ins. Needless to say, the unanimous favorite was Gringotts, though the Ministry came in close second. When he told about killing Voldemort, there was an awed silence. They seemed to look at him in a whole new light. Harry sighed. _Great. _He thought. _I'm the Man-Who-Conquered again. Can I never be just plain Harry? _

His audience was surprised to hear him continue his tale after 'Moldy's defeat. They heard of his relationship with Hermione (though he had spared them the details) and the minimal amount of political news. (An election here, a scandal there - nothing new.) He told them everything up to when he had been tricked into going to the past. Finishing what was pretty much the story of his all-too-exciting-and-dangerous life had taken near three and a half hours, judging by the clock hanging in the kitchen, and Harry was glad to be finished.

When he was done, the Boy-Who-Lived let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. _Well that certainly took long enough, _he said to himself. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, so Harry let it linger. He had been speaking almost non-stop for three hours - his throat was extremely dry. He stood and walked over to the small kitchen. He rummaged through the cabinets until he found a clear plastic cup, and proceeded to fill it with tap water.

Moony, Padfoot and Prongs watched him closely, as if expecting him to suddenly start tap dancing. He winced. _Okay, so maybe not tap dancing, but something cool_. When people learned of his adventures, they seemed to expect him to be an amazing wizard - which he was most certainly not, no matter what Hermione and Ron might say.

He returned to his chair, and settled into it, sipping his water. As he was the Head Auror, he had acquired amazing patience over the last few years. One had to be patient to be able to stand the continuous stream of people reporting "attacks," just to get his autograph. The same thing had happened to Ron, though he had a much more positive mood about it, going so far as to boast about it. He had long since stopped, but it had been one of the key reasons he and Hermione had broken up.

Time ticked away, and Harry remained calm. He had finished his water, and he yawned, his voice slightly hoarse. Next to him, Sirius was shifting around in his seat madly. He never had been someone with much patience. _Normally, _Harry reflected, _it wouldn't have taken this long for one of them to speak. The problem here is that none of them know what to say. _Finally, James spoke. Or rather, commanded.

"What is your favorite color!" He spoke in a hurried, commander's voice. Harry blinked, and raised his right eyebrow. James seemed to realize what he had said, and turned bright red. There was a few more seconds of silence, then,

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Harry burst out laughing, not able to keep it in. The others stared at him, obviously doubting his sanity. Harry noted this... and ignored it. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He continued to laugh for a good minute, before finally stopping - gasping for breath and hiccuping a bit. "Green."

"Huh?" Remus asked, revealing his full intelligence.

"My favorite color. It's green."

"... oh." It was a strange beginning to a conversation, but it seemed to have broken the ice.

"So!" Harry began, in unusually high spirits, "do you guys want to see my trunk?" The ice immediately reformed. They were speechless, and if this was anime, they would've been sweat dropping.

"You're... _trunk_?" Remus repeated, not sure if he'd understood correctly. Harry realized how this must sound to them, and explained - a sheepish grin on his face.

"Yeah. My trunk has an apartment, plus all kinds of cool stuff in it," Harry said. The Marauders grinned widely.

"Hell yeah!" Sirius said. "How did you get an apartment into a trunk?" The three others sighed at Sirius's stupidity.

"You see, there's this new thing called, "magic," my dear Padfoot. Perhaps you've heard of it?" James said fake condescendingly. Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by Remus.

"So. The trunk?" He prompted. Harry nodded, and stood up. The others followed his example, and walked behind him to his trunk, which was sitting on the end of his bed. Harry opened the storage part of the trunk first, and began pulling things out haphazardly. He turned towards the gathered pranksters, who were looking excited.

"Firstly, here's an item you'll recognize, James," he tossed his father the invisibility cloak. James, though taken by surprise, caught it, and exclaimed,

"My cloak!"

"No, _my _cloak;" his son corrected him. James looked a mix of amused, and embarrassed. Harry then proceeded to bring out the Marauders Map, ("Perfect! Now that we have two of everything, we can get in _twice _the amount of trouble!" - Sirius) The two photo albums, his Gringott's key, and various other keepsakes he hadn't realized were floating around in the bottom of his trunk. The ones that most interested the Marauders were: a basilisk fang ("Wicked!" - James), a magical copy of Ron's Deluminator, Harry's iPod - something he had gotten in Muggle London, a few vials of Polyjuice Potion (Harry was sure he'd seen James put a vial up his sleeve), Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, and a shard of Sirius's mirror.

Finally, with a sly smile on his face, he pulled out (and quickly enlarged) his Firebolt. While, during his story, Sirius and James had pestered him for details about his broom, he had never given them an idea of what it looked like - choosing to stay focused on it's abilities. When the Marauders saw his broom, there was a uniform gasp of reverence. All three had stars in their eyes, and Remus's hand twitched, obviously longing to fly with it.

"It's... it's _beautiful_!" Sirius managed to gasp out. "Such precision! The tail is perfectly cut, the handle made with excellent grip. High speed, quick turns and stops... what _doesn't _this broom do, Harry?" Harry was reminded of Lee Jordan during one of his matches against Slytherin. He grinned, deciding to keep on the track of third year.

"Well, it doesn't catch the snitch for me." The three Marauders chuckled half-heartedly, not understanding where the joke came from. They spent the next five minutes gawking over the broom, until Remus said:

"Harry, do you think we could look through those photograph albums?" James immediately zeroed in on the leather-bound books, particularly the one with a picture of a laughing James, Lily, and baby Harry on it. Harry sighed.

"It's fine by me," he agreed, hoping he wouldn't regret it later. Remus and James bent over the album of James and Lily first, leaving Sirius to examine the broom alone. They went through the pictures surprisingly silently, though James was grinning ear-to-ear. Sirius didn't join his fellow Marauders until they had almost finished the first album. When they moved onto the second, he picked up the one of his parents and flipped through it absentmindedly. He had seen all of these pictures before. He went through, using the album more as a way to pass the time than to look at the pictures. He frowned, feeling something was missing or wrong.

Harry thought for a second, then dismissed the thought. There were so many strange things going on, he couldn't even keep track of them. He thought, not for the first time, of what he was going to do. Though he had tried not to think about it now that he knew the future must be different, there were still ways he could get them Oblivated. He could tell Dumbledore... and then everything would go back to normal, even if he didn't want it to. He sighed.

When the Marauders were done with the second album, they looked at Harry expectantly. Harry smiled a little sadly. Now that he had gotten to know them, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to bear leaving them all over again.

He shook his head, trying to forget his morbid train of thought. "C'mon," he said. "There's one more thing I want to show you." He stacked the albums on his bedside table, then walked to the end of his bed. The others followed him eagerly, waiting to see what other things they could show him. James looked a bit teary-eyed, though also elated. Harry couldn't blame him - he'd just seen pictures of his son with the girl he married!

"Werewolves rock," he said suddenly. Remus jumped, looking at him as if he were crazy... which Harry guessed he was, at least partially.

"Erm... thanks?" Moony replied hesitantly, while Sirius's eye twitched. Harry chuckled. He'd been looking forward to this moment. One of the reasons he enjoyed it so much was because he couldn't imagine the older Remus and Sirius reacting any other way. After a second, Harry's trunk seemed to melt upwards, the wood morphing fluidly into a mahogany door.

"SWEET!" Sirius exclaimed. Remus flushed a little, realizing what harry had said must have been a password. He looked happy, though, that Harry had been accepting enough to have it as his password in the first place. Harry opened the door.

"After you," he said regally. James automatically went into humor-mode, very used to doing so with Sirius, Remus and Peter.

"Why thank you, my good man." He replied formally. "May you receive many a roast pig." Harry snorted. _'Many a roast pig?' I have to ask someone about this..._

The three pranking teens and the time traveling "adult" descended the well-lit stairs. It was a rather long staircase; probably about fifty stairs. When they reached the bottom, they found themselves in a large, circular room. There were three doors evenly spaced around the wall, and between each was a large window with light streaming through. It used the same spell used in the Ministry of Magic.

The walls were painted a pretty, dark red, and the domed ceiling was pitch black, with painted silver stars. Thin lines connected a constellation of a dog, a wolf, a phoenix, a snow leopard, an owl, and a stag. The constellations were playing with each other, seeming to leap around the painted room, dashing behind windows. Strangely, there was an empty portrait on the wall.

Moony, Padfoot and Prongs stood open-mouthed, gaping unabashedly. Harry felt a thrill of pride go through him at his father's amazed face. Even if it was just a design of a room, it was a new experience for him to have a father to take pride in him. He let them admire the entryway for a while as he relaxed on a comfortable, gold couch. The Marauders especially seemed to enjoy the constellations, and were trying to follow them as they pranced along the walls.

Harry watched them happily, and was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Remus speak.

"Harry!" The Man-Who-Conquered started.

"Yeah?"

"I _said,_" (Harry got the feeling Remus hated being ignored) "-what or who are the owl, the phoenix and the big cat? And what kind of cat is it for that matter?" Harry let out a relieved sigh. That, at least, was easy to answer.

"Well, the owl is Hermione, my wife," Sirius and James perked up - wanting to hear more about the animagi. "And I'm the phoenix-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." James interrupted, waving his hands. "Did you say the phoenix is an animagus? But- but that's impossible! People can't be magical creatures in an animagus!"

"I _do _seem to have the strangest of luck, don't I?" Harry said vaguely.

"Prove it," Sirius said bluntly. With a smile, Harry closed his eyes and let the blackness encompass his mind. _Phoenix. BlackWhiteRedGreen. Feathers. RegalHealingTears. _He listed off his traits as a bird, and became completely focused on it. When he opened his eyes three seconds later, he was looking at Sirius's thighs.

Harry winced. _Not the best way to wake up... _He flapped his wings slowly, and floated upwards effortlessly. He twisted his head. He couldn't speak to humans while he was in his animagus forms, and he had therefore gotten very good at body language. _I told you so! _His expression seemed to say. James didn't look all that surprised. He seemed to have convinced himself that he wasn't going to be surprised by anything else his son threw at them. Sirius, however, had most certainly not made this promise.

"-SO COOL! I wish my form could fly..." he trailed off a little unhappily. Harry crooned a laugh, and the others looked at him in wonder. Feeling a little uncomfortable with the weight of their stares, he returned to his normal form. They seemed to be a bit at a loss of what to say. They all looked a bit glazed over with happiness. This, Harry had discovered, was one of phoenixes powers. It was a bit like the opposite of a Dementor -making someone think of all good things, instead of bad.

It could be just as dangerous, though.

"A-anyway," Remus stuttered out, "-so who's the cat?"

"Snow leopard." Harry corrected.

"Cat, snow leopard, whatever. So who is it? Is it Ron?" James said excitedly. Sirius seemed too overwhelmed with emotions to speak.

"Uh..." _great. All aboard for another freak out... _"It's me. Again." This time, they didn't even voice the idea that he might be lying. They, like all other people he knew, seemed to have decided that the odds simply didn't count with Harry.

"Cool." James said, surprisingly relaxed. "Can we see?" Harry was a bit suspicious, but he transformed nonetheless. Once in his feline form, he bunched his muscles, and leaped far over their heads, landing soundlessly on top of a high bookshelf. He crouched, watching their reactions.

They were yelling encouragement and disbelief, as was the usual reaction to his forms. He twisted his ears down onto his head. _It gets annoying how loud everything is when I'm in Ice's form._

He bounded around the room a few times top speed. It was unnecessary, yes, but even he admitted he wanted to show off a bit to them. He retransformed in midair, landing a bit unbalanced on the balls of his feet. He smiled widely, seeing their exuberant and slightly jealous faces.

From there, he spent about an hour showing them about his apartment... or trunk. Whatever. The Living Room, or the Marauder's Room, as he had taken to calling it - was the second largest room, following the bedroom. The bedroom was much like his at home, though with different paintings and furnishings. On the wall, there was the painting of Phinneas Nigelius, a portrait of the Weasleys, and a painting of Dumbledore.

They greeted him, the Marauders looking more than a little nervous at seeing the headmaster in a place they weren't allowed in. There was an open window, a black, polished cabinet, a dresser, and a desk piled with papers. Harry gulped. _Paperwork is almost as evil as Voldemort..._

They proceeded to the Kitchen, which was a rather boring tour to Harry, though James and Sirius seemed to enjoy messing with the muggle appliances such as the microwave (Now broken - they had microwaved a tin bowl full of Floo powder) the oven (the rack was bent - compliments of James stuffing the dog-ified Sirius in) and the dishwasher (whose sides were now covered in a concoction of spaghetti sauce, caramel, glue, and milk.)

Harry had just finished showing them the bathroom, which he had modeled after the Prefects' Bathroom at Hogwarts, and they were a few steps up the stairs when a woman's voice came from behind them.

"HARRY!"

AN: whoo hoo! Review, review review! I hope you guys like it! In case you didn't get it, the snow leopard's marauder name is Ice. Also, I'm in the workings of a new multi-chapter story for Naruto. I won't put it out (I'm going to finish it first) and don't worry - Just My Luck comes first! :)

Like I said... REVIEW! PLEASE! I barely have any... *pouts* :(

Okay, I'll update soon,

~Aquahina.


	9. Reminders

Disclaimer: No. Just... no. I refuse to be pinned down as a thirty-something year old woman with an overly bright smile. So, no, I have no claim over Harry Potter... Okay! Okay, fine! I have no claim over Harry Potter or it's multi-million dollar industry. Damn it.

AU: Okay, sorry this is a little slower updated than usual. School started... again. As annoyingly usual. Okay, so I have a poll up on my site that you might be interested in. I'm trying to decide which genre I should do my next oneshot about. :) VOTE!

Chapter Nine: Reminders

The feminine voice echoed around the stairwell. The Potters - both generations, Sirius, and Remus stood stock still, eyes wide. It was Harry, ever used to constant danger, who acted. He whirled around, battle-face set. He plunged his hand into his pocket to retrieve his wand, and it was only then that he realized with a groan that he knew that voice. His eye twitched.

_No way..._

There were two possible explanations for her voice to be here. One which he hoped vehemently for, and the other which he didn't dare even suspect, due to the possible reprecussions. He gulped, and tried (unsuccessfully) to hold back a less-than-manly squeak. "EEEPPP!"

"Who was _that_?" Sirius said, voicing the others' question.

"W-Why don't we just... just go now? Okay?" He said this very fast, stuttering. He reminded himself, with disgust, of Peter Pettigrew.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME! COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW OR YOU'LL BE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH UNTIL YOU'VE GROWN WHITE HAIR!" Sirius and James snickered, and Remus's eyebrows were high on his head, his eye twitching.

"Coming, dear!" He said, forcing himself to be cheerful. "_Be quiet!" _He hissed to the three boys beside him. "_Don't make any sudden movements, if you relax, she'll strike!_" Remus was no longer the only one with a twitching eye.

"Uhhh... okay?" James said questioningly, unsure how to respond to this. Harry started down the steps. He went slightly slower than before, which didn't go unnoticed by the pranksters. "What's going on, Moony?" James whispered, taking care not to speak loud enough so his... son... could hear.

"That must be his wife, Hermione. But as to how she got here, I'm clueless," said werewolf responded with a furrowed brow. Anyone that knew him well enough could tell you in a second that this meant he was thinking, and thinking hard. "Unless McGonagall and this 'Luna' character sent her back in time as well, I'm not sure how she could be here. And even then, why would she turn up in this trunk?" Even Sirius had nothing to say.

None of them dared to voice it, but all were thinking with trepidation about how their recent discovery of the future may have changed it - quite possibly for the worse. When they reached the ground level, Harry was already there, and talking to someone, or something, they couldn't see.

"-okay?" Harry asked, his heart beating extremely fast. The marauders hurried up, so as to see James's future relation, and stopped short. Whatever they had been expecting, it wasn't this. From Harry's description of his wife when she had entered first year, they had expected a very bushy-haired, buck-toothed, well_... nerd_ of a girl. In fact, none of them had really taken a liking to her until Harry's fourth year, when she had caught Rita Skeeter in her Animagus form. But instead of the figure they were imagining, they found Harry talking to a beautiful, tall woman.

She was about three inches shorter than Harry, and had slightly messy, back-length, light brown hair that hung in waves. Her hazel eyes were framed with thick lashes, and her teeth - as far as they could see - were completely straight and normally lengthed. She was wearing muggle clothing - jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers under her black and gold wizards robe.

Hermione Potter pursed her lips, and grabbed Harry's hand. "I..." she started hesitantly. "I don't think I should tell you, Harry. Your changes have already taken effect, though in an unexpected way. It's not a good thing to mess with the timeline." Sirius, James and Remus were horrified at her insinuation that their knowledge had not been an asset in the future. Even made it worse!

"Hermione?" Harry said, looking her in the eye, and pulling her into a hug. "Please? I don't think I can stand not knowing if everything will turn out all right." Her eyes softened, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She looked torn. She seemed to contemplate for a few seconds, they spoke.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't think I can tell you." Harry slumped. "Don't forget, you're coming home in just a few months. It's already December! Enjoy your time here." She took her eyes off Harry, and looked at James. She seemed to tear up a little, but she made no sound. Her eyes traveled over to Sirius. Her facial features showed no emotion, but her eyes glimmered expressively. Sadness. Hope. And something else that Harry couldn't discern. Remus. Her clenched fist softened, and she cocked her head a bit - the only emotion any of the Marauders could make out.

She seemed a bit unnerved, though thankful, at the lack of Peter Pettigrew. As Harry knew, she had a quite the temper when someone she loved was in danger. Therefore, as she loved all the people in the room he had no doubt that had Wormtail been there, he would be little more than a twitching blob by now. He couldn't help a mischievous grin at the thought, despite the circumstances.

"I... I... understand," Harry said with great difficulty. "But I still want to know how my changes have effected everything. If it... helped..." he paused here, "then I don't want to change anything." Hermione looked like she wanted to tell him something, but she remained silent, smiling at him affectionately.

"Thank you, Harry." While the Marauders seemed to think this was an inadequate amount of thanks - they would've wanted bows, after all - Harry was touched. Sure, his wife was a 'thankful' person, per say, but he could tell from her expression that she couldn't have managed to hold up against him if he tried to force the answer out any more than he had.

"It's nothing, love." He leaned down slightly, resting his forehead against hers; enjoying their closeness. James, Sirius and Remus fidgeted. Neither Hermione nor Harry could blame them. Here was James's son - even if he was from the future - showing PDA to someone they didn't even know. James started when he realized he was feeling parental, and snapped himself out of it.

"Well, it's not as if we don't love hearing you guys bicker in an utterly strange way, but I personally want to meet my future daughter-in-law." That seemed to have broken the ice.

"Yeah! And I wanna meet my... uh... goddaughter-in-law..." Even Sirius looked confused at his words, and he was silent after that, blushing slightly. Remus seemed to take pity on the steadily reddening Sirius, and put in:

"I agree. You must be Hermione Gra-" he stuttered. "I mean, Hermione Potter." The woman beamed at them, and laughed fully.

"It's nice to meet you, James, and to re-meet you, Sirius and Remus. You're all so... different." Her eyes became a little bit misty then, and a single, glistening tear fell down her cheek. She looked at the ground. _Hmm. This is certainly a surprise, _Harry thought._ I don't think I've seen Hermione cry from sadness since her mother died... and that was over two years ago. _Harry wrapped his arm around her comfortingly, and she once again rested her head in the crook of his neck. She regained her composure rather quickly, and was smiling within a few more seconds. Harry kissed her on the cheek, much to the embarrassment of his father. Teenage or not - it was still strange to see your son kiss someone you don't know.

"So," he started, ending the rather uncomfortable silence. "How long can you stay?"

"Not too long. My internal clock-" Sirius and James coughed, trying to hide their laughs. She looked a bit annoyed. "No, seriously, I do have an internal clock." They stopped laughing, though Sirius was shaking a bit around his shoulders. Hermione's hand twitched towards her wand, but Harry's arm was firmly blocking her way. "Anyways, our times are set to different numbers here, Harry. For example, you're set to return with a spell from Luna after the end of the school year. I, on the other hand, am set to return in about four hours." Harry looked highly disappointed that she couldn't stay longer.

"Any reason you wanted to stay, instead of just coming for a visit?" He seemed to have a stroke of thought. "Hey! Wait a second, why are you here in the first place?" Hermione grimaced, and it was obvious she had been hoping this wouldn't come up. Then, she brightened, forming a fake smile.

"Can't a wife come to visit her husband once and a while?" Harry was not fooled for a second. He cocked an eyebrow, not even having to voice his incredulity.

"Fine, fine..." she said, exasperated and apprehensive. "But I can't tell you everything. Like I said, things are changing more than you know." Harry gulped. "It's... hard to explain."

"Hermione!" Harry groaned. "Just spill it!" She looked annoyed, and a bit amused at his tone.

"Well if you insist," James, Sirius and Remus snickered, and Hermione paused for a second to glare half-heartedly at them. "_Anyways_, like the box, you aren't going to understand this." The Man-Who-Has-Not-Conquered-In-This-Timeperiod didn't even try to suppress a groan at this, tilting his head up and looking up at the ceiling of the trunk-room.

"Oh, I can't do it!" She looked extremely annoyed at herself, and she hung her head. Harry was confused, and rather disappointed.

"Can't do what?" He asked quickly, hoping vehemently that she wasn't talking about what he thought she was. However, to his dismay, she was.

"I can't bring myself to tell you! I wasn't originally supposed to, it was my decision, but..." Hermione trailed off, not meeting Harry's eyes. Harry, though highly disappointed, felt a stab of sympathy.

"It's fine," Harry consoled her, though Sirius, James, and Remus looked as if they wish to say otherwise. "You don't have to tell us anything." She sniffled.

"I'm sorry!" She said again, wrapping him in a tight hug. Harry couldn't hold back a small smile.

"It's okay," said Harry. "You don't-" but whatever Harry had been planning to say (he didn't really know himself) was lost in interruption.

"What the hell!" This was spoken in unison by James, and Sirius. Remus, always smart one, was muttering incoherently to himself, rubbing his temples. Hermione looked amused, though Harry bristled at the more than slightly impolite tone they were using towards his wife.

"What are we supposed to get out of that?" Sirius asked.

"If I could tell you that, Sirius, I would have already and saved us this useless argument," she said, sounding rather persnickety. Sirius flushed. He opened his mouth to speak, but Remus spoke instead.

"Why can't you tell us? Wouldn't that make it easier for Harry to make a good difference?" Harry made no motion of agreement or disagreement, not wanting to anger either parties.

"I told you!" She said, finally raising her voice, though she sounded more angry at herself than them. "I just... I can't. I wish I could, trust me..." Sirius pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing.

"Tell. Us." He said, with a tone verging on threat. Harry turned on him, smacking him not-so-lightly upside the head.

"Hey! That's my wife you're talking to!" Sirius looked properly abashed, though not exactly apologetic. He opened his mouth, but James spoke before he could.

"Sirius, she can't say anything." This time, it was Harry's father who spoke. Hermione looked at him thankfully. Sirius snorted.

"More like she doesn't _want_ to tell us anything." Harry covered his ears, expecting his wife's next move.

"SIRIUS OPHELIA BLACK! DON'T YOU DARE ACCUSE ME OF _WANTING_ TO KEEP VALUABLE INFORMATION FROM THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! I KNOW THINGS ABOUT YOU THAT WOULD MAKE YOU'RE FRIENDS MOCK YOU UNTIL YOUR DYING DAY, SO KEEP YOUR FREAKIN' TONGUE!" Harry uncovered his ears, noting that her rant had ended. There was silence. James and Remus looked dumbstruck, and slightly worshipful. Sirius, on the other hand, looked the epitome of horrification.

His mouth was open in a silent scream, his hands trembling. He closed his eyes, seeming to pray to some unknown entity, before:

"_Ophelia_!" This was James. Sirius sagged bonelessly, crumpling to the floor in dejection. Harry thought he heard muttering coming from the heap that was previously recognizable as Sirius, but he wasn't sure.

"...all those years of secrecy..." the bag of skin twitched. "...hours of planning. Gone... worthless. No point in erasing my records now..." More incomprehensible murmuring. Then, he started speaking slightly louder. "Stupid, hippie, pureblood-obsessed mothers and their strangely muggle-like naming capabilities..." This one Harry was sure he had heard. Then, James and Remus exploded, Hermione looking rather smug.

Tears of pure mirth streamed from their eyes as they held onto each other for support. Sirius flopped his head around, only to glare at them.

"O... O... OPHELIA!" James gasped out, between gulps of breath. Harry made no move to stop them. He couldn't blame them. He had been in hysterics for at least two weeks after he'd heard. Of course, he recalled, it had been even funnier then - as "Ophelia" was not the middle name of a popular schoolboy, but a supposed mass-murderer.

The continued to laugh uproariously, not showing any sign of stopping. Remus and James gasped for air, unable stop laughing. This went on for about thirty seconds. Their laughter dimmed, without enough air to keep it up. Finally, Harry sighed, and pulled out his wand.

"_Inflatio_," he said, his wand pointing at first Remus's chest, then James's. The laughter resumed, equally as loud as originally.

They continued guffawing, gripping their sides. This went uninterrupted for a good ten minutes. Harry and Hermione didn't have the heart to stop them, remembering how hard it had been for them to stop laughing when they heard. Sirius looked tortured, his mouth moving. Harry suspecting he was muttering again, but it was completely impossible to hear him over the raucous laughter of his two friends.

Finally, Hermione looked slightly peeved. Harry took this as a sign, and once again waved his wand. "_Silencio!_" He pronounced, barely hearing his own voice over his father and professor. There was immediate silence, leaving a strange, ringing silence.

James and Remus were still (quite literally) rolling on the ground, silent laughter bursting from their mouths, tears streaming. Hermione's hand twitched towards her wand, going unnoticed by the two laughing Marauders, and the one depressed one.

Harry's hand darted out, grabbing her wrist. His grip was firm, though not in any way painful as he held her back. She looked at him beseechingly, asking a silent question - puppydog eyes on full tilt. But he had expected this, and was staring fixedly at the ceiling.

"Pleeeeease, Harry?" This time, the Marauders heard her, and managed (each struggling from their own momentary disability) to turn their heads to look questioningly at them.

"Sorry, Hermione." He left no explanation as to what she was asking, and he studiously ignored James, Sirius, and Remus's questioning eyes. _I wouldn't want them to be scared too bad... _He thought to himself, slightly resigned. _Note to Self: prank them while I'm here. George'd never forgive me if I didn't do that for him. _

Harry imagined, for the first time, how George (a slight Marauder-wannabe, not that he'd even admit to being a wannabe about anything) must have reacted when he learned about Harry's trip to the past. He smirked in a rather Slytherin way. _Evil is sometimes fun..._

Harry and Hermione allowed Sirius and James ten more minuted of silent laughter before stopping it completely. It took five minutes after that to get them to stop teasing the corpse-like Sirius. And then ten minutes after that to get said corpse up and slightly normal-looking, which didn't include the fifteen minutes they spent getting him to stop muttering, and be himself again.

"_Anyways_," Hermione said, extremely annoyed by now, "Now that we're all finally quiet and non-muttering;" she glared at the three younger males present, "we can get back to the previous subject. Why I came here." Harry, James, Sirius, and Remus perked up - James and Remus albeit with a twitching jaw.

"As I told you before that... erm... unfortunate and _completely_ unplanned for interruption," Sirius narrowed his eyes, looking suspiciously at Hermione for the first time. "I was telling you my... reminder, let's call it."

"I don't really expect you guys to know what that means, no offence, but I'm hoping you can figure it out in time for it to be of any use to you at all." This didn't really help the confusion. However, they said nothing, wanting her to get on with it. Remus was in his thinking pose again, making what was probably a record for the most times that had ever happened per day.

There was a few more moments of companionable silence, before Hermione spoke - this time in a softer, more curious tone. "So. Aren't you guys going to tell me what everything's like here, or do I have to force it out of you?" They jumped, not expecting something so... normal. If there was a standard for time traveling, anyways.

"Well..." And so they began to talk, alternating turns speaking. They talked for quite a while, studiously not questioning Hermione about what was happening in the future. They told her about the Sorting, Lily, Quidditch - though her eyes glazed over a bit here - and almost everything that had happened since Harry had arrived. Once the Marauders finished telling about the time they had spent in Hogwarts together, Harry told about his time before Hogwarts.

The Forest of Dean, ("I wondered where you went! The moment you left, I was worrying myself to death about the possibility of you landing somewhere horrible...") his rather short stay in Diagon Alley, and - to the astonishment of all - Izlanzi.

"You didn't tell us you have a phoenix!" Sirius said, now fully recovered from his embarrassment.

"A phoenix! Can I meet her? Why isn't she here, anyways?" This was his wife. Her eyes had lit up when she heard, though now they dimmed slightly. "Oh, I hope you can bring her back... you said her name was Izanzi, right?"

"Izlanzi." He corrected.

"Izlanzi." She agreed, nodding. "So can you call her here?" She was eager, looking around the room as if she expected the phoenix to appear right then and there. Harry chuckled lightly.

"Sure. Just a sec." He closed his eyes - mostly for effect - and projected his thoughts outwards.

_Izlanzi? Where are you? There are some people I want you to meet._

_I'm talking to Fawkes. I'll be there in a second. _He opened his eyes, and smiled. About thirty seconds later, there was a swirl of flame just to his left. James, Sirius and Remus gasped, and Hermione let out a small scream. Harry made no noise, holding out his arm below the swirl. It diminished, and the beautiful magical creature landed on his arm, weighing it down.

_Hello, again, Harry. These must be the people you told me about. Can you introduce me? _

_Of course, _he replied.

"The one who looks like me is my father, James." James waved brightly. "The stupefied-looking one is Sirius," Sirius growled. "The one on the far left is Remus, and," he took in a deep breath, "The beautiful, flawless, always-right, intelligent woman over there is Hermione Potter, my perfect wife." Said perfect wife blushed, and slapped him lightly on the arm. Hesitantly, she reached out her arm, stroking Izlanzi's feathers in awe.

"And this is Izlanzi." She cooed in happiness, swerving her head. There was an intake of breath around the room.

_Harry, can you tell them what I'm saying? _

_Of course. _

_Then tell them... tell them I am glad to meet them, and you've told me a lot about them. _It was true. Harry had spent many homesick nights laying in bed, 'talking' to Izlanzi about the people he loved. He'd told her most of his whole life before the time travel. She was a very good listener, he'd learned, and she too had shared things with him.

"Izlanzi wants me to tell you that she is glad to meet you."

_No editing! _He winced at his phoenix's berating voice.

"Also, she wants me to tell you guys that she's heard a lot about you." Hermione's eyes twinkled in curiosity.

"So then you two can talk through a link, I gather?" He nodded in affirmative. "Can she... understand us, though, or just you?" Izlanzi made a rather huffy noise, and gave an elegant (if such things could be elegant) squawk.

_Of course I can! What does she take me for, some common chicken? _Despite Izlanzi's earlier warning not to edit her words, he decided it was safer for his health just to say,

"Yes, she can understand." The Marauders who, surprisingly, had been silent now butted in.

"Rad!" Sirius said jubilantly. "Can she hear what we're thinking?" He shut his eyes very tightly, apparently trying to connect with her empathetically. Harry snickered. _Sometimes I forget that there are other differences in the time periods than just people and muggle technology. Rad? Seriously?_

"No, she can't hear you." His godfather looked highly disappointed. "She can only communicate with her bonded human, being me, and other magical creatures."

"So you can talk to her in your phoenix form, then?" James asked.

"Yeah. I can talk to her in my other form as well though, so I'm guessing it doesn't really have anything to do with me being an animagus." James and Remus looked slightly disappointed, obviously wanting to be able to communicate with the beautiful bird. Sirius, rather predictably, had no idea what they were thinking about, and looked very confused.

"I hate to break up the conversation, but if I'm correct, Hermione only has about two hours left here." This was Remus, who looked apologetic at having to remind them. Harry's mood immediately hit rock bottom again. Sirius grinned mischievously, and spoke up.

"Do we need to give the two lovers a little time alone...?" he trailed off suggestively, and Harry was just about to object - he was sure Hermione would rather get to know his father better - when James interrupted.

"What? No! I mean-" He stopped, his face bright red. "I mean..." he looked down at his feet, apparently extremely embarrassed. Everyone else, including Hermione, snickered. _I guess even if they've only known a person was their son for a few hours, no father really wants to accept that their son gets... erm... well, you know. _He trailed off, sounding lame even to himself. He was immediately grateful no one except Izlanzi could hear him, and even she made a strange whistling noise, which he assumed was laughter.

Harry, feeling sorry for his father - even if he was younger than him - decided to save him. "I was going to object anyways. I think both Hermione and I would rather learn more about you three." The Harry-clone (or the person Harry was a clone of, depending on how you looked at it) sighed in relief.

"Too true," Hermione said briskly. "Now. I've always wondered this, Remus, before your future wife, obviously, who did you date?" And the embarrassment was given to Remus.

When their time was almost up, they began goodbyes, Harry and Hermione with a bit of wetness under their eyes.

"Now," Hermione began, sniffling. "Before I go, _this_," she pulled out he wand, and before Harry could stop her, she waved it silently and pointed it at James and Sirius, whose hair promptly turned flashing green and silver, which she knew was about their worst nightmare, "is for laughing about my internal clock, time travel-induced or not." They looked confused for a second, glanced at each other, gave a high-pitched screech of horror, and feinted. Remus hurriedly conjured a mirror, and let out a thankful sigh when he saw his facial features were untouched.

Harry laughed at the unconscious figures of James and Sirius, and them pulled his wife into a kiss. Remus politely looked away, distracting himself by prodding his fellow Marauders with his wand while they kissed. It wasn't too deep of a kiss, but it continued for about two minutes before her body shimmered, and she was pulled backwards into oblivion.

You know you want to... just bring your mouse around to that nice, green-lettered button in the middle of the screen just below the note. You know you want to...


	10. Initiation

**Disclaimer: To my great dismay, I do not own Harry Potter. Or anything really. I used to own one of those really good lollypops with the apple center, and the hard caramel on the outside, but I ate it with lunch. Woe is me**

**AN: Okay, I'm baaacckkk! It's one of my greatest pet peeves ever when authors just give up stories completely - usually at a really good part, too - or when they update about once every six months, so I've vowed by my life or death to finish this story. Be warned!**

**My poll is still up! :) Also, I'm verging on a bit of writer's block here (I'm posting this at the bottom of the chapter, too) so if you guys have any suggestions, feel free to contact me! If you really think they're amazing (not that any of my AMAZING readers suggestions wouldn't be) then send them via fanfiction-email, so as not to tell people what I might do. Okay, love you all!**

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Chapter Ten: Initiation

The next few days after Harry's confession were a bit like the calm before the storm. Proverbial, of course. The Marauders, minus Peter, who (without explanation from them) had been unceremoniously thrown out of their group, had been secretive, which,was making him rather nervous. He feared that they either; a) Didn't believe him, despite both his wife from the future showing up, and his knowledge of all of their secrets, b) thought it was weird that he was there at all, and decided to just ignore him, or c) didn't like him. His worst fear of the three (by a wide margin) was the third option.

But, you know how it is. Things never turn out as you think they will.

Harry awoke to unseasonably warm weather. He yawned, sitting up in bed and looking around. There wasn't the usual hustle and bustle of mornings in the dorm, but with a quick glance at the clock - it was 6:30 - he discovered that it was by far too early for any of the Marauders to be up, and dismissed the thought. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a black and green T-shirt from his trunk, his wand, and entered the bathroom.

He plopped his clothing and wand down onto a chair, and stepped into one of the five shower stalls. Unusually, the water was the perfect temperature. As it turned out, Sirius was quite vain, and usually used up all the hot water - causing Harry to use a warming spell on the water. Granted, he had gotten better at it then when he'd first used it (the water had been scalding, and he'd had a burn on his hand where he'd tested it for a week) but it was still unusual when he got it right. He hummed to himself softly, taking care it was too quiet to be heard outside the shower.

He washed his hair, then simply stood underneath the water, enjoying the heat. Harry stepped out, quickly tied a towel around his legs, and walked over to the mirror, which was very foggy. _Hmm. I must've spent more time in the shower than I thought. _

His hand squeaked over the surface of the glass as he wiped it off. He picked up his toothbrush from the side of the sink, and looked up.

"AAAARRGGGGGHHHHHHH!" The moment he made a sound, the dorm behind him exploded with noise.

"Yes! It worked!"

"HA HA!"

He whirled around just as the door was kicked open by an excited-looking (and glasses-less, to Harry's surprise) James, who laughed at the sight of him. His father looked at him slightly closer, squinting, and swore under his breath.

"Damn!" Or not so much under his breath. "The eye, fingernails, toenails_, _the nose, _and_ the shoulders didn't work!" Harry suddenly felt a whole lot better. He turned around, re-examining his appearance. Harry, to put it bluntly, looked like an American politician on steroids - not a pretty picture. He had wrinkles - wrinkles! - white hair, and for some strange reason, was wearing a sleeve-ripped muscle shirt, which was stretched over his huge biceps, bony ribcage and pouchy stomach. Probably the strangest combination Harry had ever seen.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" He screamed, looking at his face closer to the mirror.

"Oh, just a little heat-recognition semi-permanent glamor charms. They last until 5:00 this evening," Remus replied. He and Sirius had just entered the bathroom, and though Remus had controlled himself, Sirius was laughing with James.

"Oh. Okay. Now just one more little thing." He whipped his wand off the chair where he had set it upon his folded clothing, and was waving it before any of them could move. In a puff of smoke, Sirius sported hair was bright, spiky yellow and purple dots all over his face, James had wrinkles and long, Snape-reminiscent hair, and Remus had a hunchback and unnaturally thick eyebrows. They looked at each other, laughed for a second, looked in the mirror, and yelled.

"AAAARRGGGGGHHHHHHH!" Remus took it the best of the three, by far. It was not surprising, however, as it was well known among the Gryffindor boys in their dorm how vain Sirius and James were. James clutched at his greasy hair, his face a mask of horror. Sirius was speechless, staring stock still at his reflection, his eyes bulging.

"What did you do to us?! I look like... like Snape!" James said, leaning closer to examine his wrinkles. Sirius finally moved, fainting. Harry snorted in laughter at the antics of his godfather and father.

"Oh, just a few semi-permanent glamor charms. They last until 5:00 this evening," he mimicked. James turned his face away from the mirror, only to scowl whole-heartedly at Harry, causing Harry to wonder (with a blip of his heart) if pranking them had been a good idea, after all. Remus had been waving his wand during this whole conversation, attempting to nix the spells he had placed on them to no avail. He furrowed his (now bushy) brow in aggravation.

"What spells did you use on us!? I've never seen any of these, and I can't get rid of them!" He was becoming slightly hysterical, his voice rising. Harry laughed full out now.

"You figure it out, Moony. You are the smart one of the group!" Sirius, by this time, had woken up and was nodding at Harry's words in agreement.

"Moony! What's wrong? Fix us!" The werewolf looked panicked, and was flicking his eyes around the room. Harry didn't blame him - he, personally, didn't want to be around when Sirius learned he would have to stay in his current... erm... form until 5:00.

"Well, err... you see, Sirius," Remus began haltingly. "I... well. I don't exactly... errr... know how to get rid of it." Sirius stood, staring at Remus uncomprehendingly.

"What?" He asked, looking confused. This scared Harry all the more.

"Well, you see-"

"No, no, I get that, but why can't you fix it? You're _Moony_. You fix everything." Remus blushed slightly at the praise, but looked apprehensive. "Fix it." The dog-animagus reiterated, pointing at his face. Harry highly considered making the comment that if nobody had been able to fix his face all Sirius's life, he doubted it would work now, but thought that might just push his godfather over the edge, and decided to leave it be. Then, Sirius exploded.

"NOOOOOO!" He fell to his knees, his hands clasped in the direction of the sky - despite the fact that a ceiling was currently blocking it. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! AREN'T I PUNISHED ENOUGH BY YOUR CRUEL DUBBING OF MY MIDDLE NAME?!" At that, James and Remus began snickering again - which didn't help Sirius's cries of despair.

Throughout all this, Harry remained mostly silent, allowing himself only a snicker or two of triumph. He watched in amusement as all three boys examined themselves in the mirror with dismay. Not for the first time, Harry contempated the unexpectedness of their personalities. Out of the three, only Remus had a future-personality anywhere near the one he had in the past. Sirius's change was the most pronounced. From what Harry remembered from his rather short time with his godfather, he had been a man living in the past. He'd only seen him laugh a few times, and he was most certainly not vain.

_Though, _Harry thought, _I can't blame him about that last part. It's pretty hard to be self-conscious about your looks when you're in Azkaban for twelve years with elbow-length hair, and skin of undeterminable color. _

Of course, he had never met his father in normal-time, but from what he'd heard from various people - Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, etc - he'd been much more serious after becoming an auror and leaving Hogwarts.

Remus, of course, had been still (mostly) level-headed, rather bookish, and kind. The most obvious difference had been an aura of sadness and tiredness.

He must have been standing there thinking for longer than he had originally thought, because before he knew it, a disgruntled Remus was snapping his fingers in front of his face and shaking him none-too-gently.

"Harry! Snap out of it!" Harry turned his rather annoyed glare towards Remus, who glared right back. _No, Remus is not to be underestimated, _Harry thought, scrunching back away from the werewolf's angry stare.

Harry then turned back to the matter at hand. That matter being that he was currently transfigured into a wrinkled, mostly-buff, white-haired old man. He scowled again at the thought. Then, to the surprise of his dormmates, he closed his eyes, thinking. _They said it was a timed glamor charm. If that was true, then an easy _Finite Incantatem _should've done it. Hmmmm. _Sirius, Remus and James were looking at him, eyes twitching for what seemed like the millionth time that week. _Knowing James, it would have been transfiguration. That is his best subject. Then it's a heat-activated, timed transfiguration spell... _Harry's eyes snapped open, a grin on his face.

_Estus Trans Nix! _He thought to himself, doing the spell silently so they wouldn't be able to copy it. James, Sirius and Remus's previously humored faces soon morphed into shock, then outrage, and then anger as Harry's features turned back into normal.

"Wha? How..." They spluttered simultaneously. Harry just grinned, upping their righteous outrage. He raised his right eyebrow slowly, gave mock-salute, and ducked out of the doorway and hurried over to his bed. There, he dressed quickly, threw on a robe, and swept downstairs before the Marauders became even more vengeful.

He entered the common room, stepping off the stairwell at the same time Lily reached the bottom of the girls'. She looked entirely too awake and put-together this morning, in Harry's opinion. She turned quickly, her pony-tailed red hair whipping through the air.

"-this morning?" She asked a yet-to-be-seen girl who was, presumably, further up the stairs.

"If you say so, Lily," a female voice answered. In a second, that voice proved to be Alice; the future wife of Frank Longbottom, and Neville's mother.

They ended their conversation, apparently not wanting to be overheard, as the timetraveler joined them on their trip down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The three of them shared a brief, polite conversation - and it was painfully obvious that their minds were elsewhere. Harry said nothing about James, Sirius, and Remus's... erm... _transformation_, wanting to keep it a surprise.

He enjoyed his breakfast, though it was rather overshadowed by paranoid students from all houses. They had learned long ago, or not so long ago for the first years, that missing Marauders at breakfast was never a good sign. Slytherin in particular was cautious, quite a few of them forgoing breakfast altogether so as not to consume any potions.

Harry, however, ignored this; being the only one present who knew the true reason they were absent. He laughed to himself under his breath, earning him a strange look from a fourth-year girl next to him. He ignored it. This was hardly the first time people stared at him.

......o0O0o......

None of the Marauders showed up throughout breakfast, apparently choosing to avoid heavily-populated places so as to diminish their embarassment. However, when their first class roller around, Transfiguration, they were the first ones present - unsuccessfully begging Professor McGonagall to return them to their natural states.

She, laughing for one of the first times since Harry had met her in his first year at Hogwarts, declined, claiming it was high time they had "a taste of their own medicine." She did, however, ask about the absence of Peter Pettigrew in their group lately. They did not answer this, causing the strict professor to look a mixture of intrigued and concerned.

Harry had heard all of this through the use of Extendable Ears (© _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_) and had had a good laugh just imagining the look on their faces at McGonagall's verdict. So, it was with great dignity (and feigned ignorance) that the Marauders could be found sitting in class amidst giggles and fully blown laughs.

When Harry entered two minutes before class was due to start, all three of them turned at the same time, glaring at him. _If looks could kill... _Harry found himself thinking.

"Settle down, settle down!" Professor McGonagall began to no avail. "Be quiet! That means you, too, Miss. Donat." Said 'Miss. Donat' blushed, and immediately stopped talking. "All right, class, today, we will be learning about..." and the lecture began.

Though class had started, all students present (today it was Gryffindors and Ravenclaws) had trouble concentrating. This in itself wasn't exactly rare, but today it was multiplied by the presence of three unusually studious Marauders; who were, at present, staring dutifully at the professor, apparently listening in rapture to her. Harry, though, could tell their minds were elsewhere, probably seething at him.

Once Transfiguration was over, the three were the first out the door and when the other students hurried after them (most likely for questioning or teasing) they were gone. Harry, personally, suspected Disslusionment Charms. A few years ago, he would have been sure it was the work of James's invisibility cloak, but the three of them were far too large to fit under it.

The rest of the class looked highly dissapointed, and were checking their timetables for classes they had with them later.

Harry, feeling rather protective of his (currently) prankless appearance, kept his wand clasped tightly in his grip. He scanned the crowd intently, looking for the telltale signs of a Disslusionment Charm. He saw none, and was feeling better when suddenly, he was flicked upside down and into the air.

He flicked his head back and forth in panic, looking for his 'attackers.' The people around him were whispering in confusion, looking for the source of the spell... and finding no one. Then, from an empty place in space, came Sirius's voice.

"That's right, Harry, be scared. Be _very_ scared. Harry trained his wand onto the spot where the voice originated, and sent a spell their way.

"_Stupify!" _A shield was thrown up - Harry suspected Remus. "_Finite Incantatem!_" This time, multiple shields were put up - three - to prevent their appearances from being revealed. Harry thought fast, and cast a cushioning charm on the floor beneath him. Then, he pointed his wand at his feet, his eyes never leaving the spot that the Marauders had revealed themselves to be, and released the _Levicorpus _charm that had been placed on him with a mutter of,

"_Liberacorpus._"

"Oohf!" He couldn't help the sound from escaping him as he hit the ground. Softened or not, the wind was still slightly knocked out of him. Following their lead, he tapped his head and felt the familiar feeling of an egg cracking upon his head. The feeling washed over his body, and when he looked down, he was disillusioned.

_Silencio_, he said, silencing the sound of his footsteps. He proceeded to jog over in front of a group of Hufflepuff second years, who looked both concerned for the parties involved, and amazed at the spellwork shown.

"_Honenum Revelio!" _Came James's voice from about ten feet to Harry's left. Harry started. _Why didn't I think of that? _He berrated himself. He immediately a shield charm, which reflected the _Incarcerous_ and _Impedimenta _spells, thrown from the same place. Harry cast the same spell as James, verbal this time.

"_Honenum Revelio!" _Immediately taking effect, he soon saw three red outlines of the invisible teens. They were creeping closer to him, and the one on the far left of the group, who appeared to be Remus, judging by it's unnaturally hunched back, had his wand raised - preparing to cast an unknown spell.

"_Stupify!" _Harry dodged just in time, allowing the red beam of light to fly over his right shoulder.

"_Avian Maximus!" _He countered, and suddenly a large flock of crows appeared. The students around them gasped in amazement. This wasn't taught in Hogwarts. _"Oppungo!" _They swarmed together for a second, then began to divebomb the three boys.

"Aaargh!" Sirius yelled, the first to be hit.

"OUCH! Get- these- blasted- birds of me!" James said, and the red outlines revealing their presence began swatting and cursing birds left and right. Harry took this opportunity to remove the Disillusionment Charm on him; it wasn't doing him any good, and it was only sucking away his energy unnecessarily.

After about thirty seconds, Harry politely didn't jinx them while they wer incapacitated, they had gotten rid of all the birds, and many of them lay frozen in a block of ice, or unconscious on the floor around them. To the students watching, it looked as if feathers were hanging in midair, making a vague shape of three people.

This time, instead of hexing them, Harry spoke, though he was on high alert - ready to create a shield charm at a moment's notice. "Guys, I don't want to fight." Sirius snorted.

"Then get rid of it!" There were mutters from their watchers as they tried to understand what they meant. Only a Ravenclaw seventh year seemed to know what they meant - having been in their Transfiguration class - and she seemed to take pity on them, and said nothing. She did, however, seem highly interested in the spells Harry had cast in their duel, and was writing them down on a scrap piece of parchment.

"Get rid of what?" Harry said, playing dumb. This only angered them more, not much to his surprise, and they sent another _Incarcerous _spell his way - silently this time. He had enough time to place a shield charm, but only just in time. He smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, guys. Couldn't resist." He narrowed his eyes, thinking. _Should I release it? I am going to be late for class if I don't. I'm sure none of them will take heed to the time limit... Plus, they are pretty much my only friends here, as well as my father, godfather, and as good as secondary-godfather. _He sighed, regretful.

"Fine, I'll release it." There were sighs of gratitude. "But," and at this, he grinned widely, "before I release it, you have to get rid of the Disillusionment Charm. Just for a few seconds." There were cries of outrage from the three boys, Sirius's and James's the loudest.

"What!"

"-ridiculous! Why would _we_-"

"-begging us on your knees!"

Harry silenced them with a wave of his wand, though they contined to speak, the red lines outlining their jaws moving up and down, and their arms waving. Finally, they stopped, and Harry removed the _Silencio. _There was a deep sigh.

"Fine." Harry recognized this as his father's voice. "But you have to promise to release it!" The crowd stood on their tiptoes in anticipation, making sure they had a good view of the source of the voices and spells.

"I promise," he said solemnly, noddin his head. There was a second's delay, then Remus's voice muttered,

"_Finite,"_ rather dejectedly, and they appeared - deformities and all. All three were glaring deeply at the innocently smiling timetraveler, and barely a second past before the crowd erupted into gales of laughter. Students were leaning against each other, clutching their ribbs, but not able to tear their eyes away from the glowering pranksters. Harry let this go on for about ten seconds, then he raised his wand, and muttered,

"_Estus Trans Nix._" Three times in quick sucession. The three boys morphed back into their normal forms, and they sighed in relief as they returned to their regular appearances.

The laughter continued for about a minute, the crowd momentarily forgetting about their upcoming classes in the excitement of the duel and the revealed prank.

James, Sirius, and Remus scurried away towards potions, Harry trailing about fifteen feet behind them. He gave them some room, knowing that though they were immensely glad to be rid of his spell, they were in anything but high spirits at the moment.

....o0O0o......

It was dinner before Harry dared to speak to them again. Throughout the day, they had been trading small pranks (an easily reversed hair-color charm here, an _aguamenti _there) though none of them did anything big in fear of incurring the other parties' wrath - both of which had proved to be socially deadly.

Though not many students - around thirty of the seven-hundred that attended Hogwarts - had actually seen the Marauder's transformation in either Transfiguration or Harry and their duel, news of it had spread (accompanied always by laughter) throughout the school. In addition to the original viewers of the prank, Lily Evans (soon-to-be Potter) and Severus Snape seemed to find it the most humerous, though for different reasons.

Snape saw it as revenge, and had (to Harry astonishment) smiled largely at him when they had passed in the second-floor corridor. He wondered absently if this would change the potions master's view on them in the future, though he was mostly preoccupied (and more than slighlty creeped out) by the appearance of Snape's smile. As it turned out, he had very straight, white teeth, Harry couldn't help but notice.

Lily, on the other hand, seemed to think they had gotten their just desserts, and though she had giggled when she had seen them in Transfiguration, she took pity on them and (due, Harry thought, to their lack of serious revenge on Harry himself) had seemed pleased with them, much like a mother would be pleased with a child who had finally learned how to properly go to the bathroom by theirself.

So, it was with companionable respect that Harry and his parents, Sirius and Remus sat at dinner time, laughing at themselves. Remus had been the first to admit that it was a very good bit of spellwork on Harry's part, and was backed up after a few minutes by the other two.

Lily congratulated Harry herself, and James looked rather downtrodden until she patted him on the shoulder comfortingly as she sat down between the two Potters.

Even the teachers (informed by Professor McGonagall, presumably, about Harry's prank) seemed in high spirits, and even Dumbledore seemed to have an extra twinkle in his bright blue eyes. James refrained from asking Lily out, to the astonishment of all, and the five seventh year Gryffindors finished the day happily, despite the drama of the morning.

It was, all in all, an excellent day, if not with the best of beginnings.

......o0O0o......

_Harry was walking through a decrepit courtyard, dead grass and weeds pushing through the cracked marble walkway. It had obviously been grand once - the expensive style made that obvious. Black marble archways curved elegantly over him, and a cloudy, gray sky was just visible through the intertwining vines hanging above him. _

_He turned to the right, starting down a smaller path. It was obviously a place he knew well - for he spared his surroundings barely a glance as he walked through the laberinth-like collection of walkways. After a few minutes, he reached a plain, wooden door with a slightly rusted lock. It seemed out of place in his current surroundings; it was far too new and, and though it was obviously made with fine craftsmanship, it dulled in comparison to the ancient splendor of the courtyard._

_He turned the doorhandle._

_Somehow, Harry knew that it should have been locked, and he frowned slightly as he pushed the door open. The room before him was as black as night. Only a miniscule window high up on the oak walls allowed light, and it was barely any at that. The weak shaft of light fell down to the floor, illuminating a table-like object in the middle of the room._

_He walked towards it, reaching his hand out - what do do, Harry didn't know. He had almost reached it. He could feel his hand becoming cooler - somehow reflecting some evil magic eminating from the platform. He was only a few inches away-_

"Harry! _Harry_!" A hissed, male voice came; awakening him from his slumber. At first, he was sure he had been yelling, or making some sort of fuss in his sleep. That wasn't uncommon when he had these sort of dreams - though this was the first one he'd had since the Voldemort (of his time) had died.

But soon, it became obvious that that was not the case. He blinked confusedly, and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. The room was dark, and it was obviously late - probably after midnight. Harry sat up, and looked around. The Marauders were around his bed, looking strangely solomn, though excited at the same time. It was a rather strange combonation.

"Yes?" He asked, not yet being enough awake to inject sarcasm into his response.

"You've done it!" This was Sirius. He looked triumphant, and Harry hoped to god (or whatever was up there) that this was not some crazily-planned revenge scheme to get payback from their earlier embarassment.

"Done what?" This time, he was wary.

"You're officially one of us now." Harry didn't exactly feel enlightened. At his still-confused face, Sirius sighed and spoke again, this time impatiently. "A _Marauder._"

A Marauder. He was a Marauder? How was that possible? This must be some sort of joke... But he could tell from their eyes that they weren't. James looked proud, and Harry hoped fervently that it was at least slightly parental. Remus and Sirius looked more excited, and were grinning fully. Though, Harry couldn't help but notice, Remus had black bags under his eyes, and his wide smile was tainted with exhaustion.

He forced his thoughts back to their earlier pronouncement. "Seriously?" For once, Sirius refrained from making the 'Sirius-Serious' joke, and nodded happily.

"Ummm... I don't know what to say." Harry was touched beyond belief. This was not something to be taken lightly. To be an actual Marauder was... wow.

This, Harry knew, was something they had never done before. Sure, they all had friends out of their group (Frank Longbottom, Amos Diggory, Nathan Erikkson, et cetra) and from what he'd heard, all of them had helped them with at least a prank or two before. But that was completely different from being an actual Marauder.

"You don't have to say anything," James said in a rather rare show of compassion.

"Sooo..." Harry said, a tad uncomfortably now. "What now?" At this, the three boys around him grinned, Remus and Sirius in particular looking rather carnivorous. Harry gulped. Somehow, he knew this was going to be a long night.

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**AN: So. How'd ja' like it? Sorry it took a bit to update - I've got another chapter-story in the works, this time for Naruto. I'm focusing on "Just My Luck," and I'm taking my other one slow (I'm not going to release it until I'm finished) but it still was not my fastest update ever.**

**I have a poll going, to help me decide what genre to do my next oneshot about. I'm still rather undecided. VOTE!**

**Also, REVIEW!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!! Also, if you have a community, I would appreciate this story being put into it. ^_^**

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**~Aquahina, your ever-dutiful author **


	11. Switches and Surprises

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But I do own a very comfortable pair of purple pajamas, and an ink-less ballpoint pen. :)

Chapter Eleven:

After his midnight-awakening, Harry had gotten a total of thirty minutes of sleep that night. This, in addition to the rather... nerve-wracking activities they had been up to last night, had somehow (inexplicably) lead to him being annoyingly hyper, and adrenaline-infused. Then again, Harry suspected it was good that he had adrenaline, because he didn't doubt that he would be doing quite a bit of running today, from numerous parties.

He couldn't hold back a rather maniacal laugh, causing the students around him (excepting his fellow Marauders) to scoot away from him, averting their eyes. This, of course, causing him to laugh even harder. Sirius joined in, followed by James. Even Remus couldn't hold back a snicker or two. The combined forces of the evilly-laughing Marauders, and the fact in itself that they were up at normal time (they were usually verging on late to classes) had caused mass panic in the Great Hall. All tables - Slytherin especially - were looking around frantically, and quite a few of them had their wands out.

This, of course, caused Harry to laugh even harder... which in turn increased the fear surrounding them. Finally, after a good three minutes of solid evil laughter, Snape finally spoke. Or yelled, really.

"WOULD YOU FIVE JUST _SHUT UP_?" All four immediately stopped laughing, turning towards him. Snape gulped, regretting his words.

"No, Snivellius," Harry elbowed Sirius for the mean name, but allowed him to continue. "_Snape_, I mean." The future-potions professor looked shocked at hearing him take back his "hilarious and witty" pun on his name. "I didn't think you would be mad at us so early in the day... I didn't expect screaming at us until at least first period." Snape's eyes were bulging, obviously fearful, and trying to hide it. _Be scared, Snape. _Harry thought, still in a strange, sleep-less mood. _Be very scared. _

The rest of the breakfast was suitably quiet, except from the frequent snickers of the Marauders. The rest of the Hall seemed to be in mourning; once or twice a student would come up to Snape and pat him on the shoulder (to the boy's great disgust) and wish him luck in a tone that implied his impending funeral. Needless to say, this did not help the boy's spirits.

All the students walked quietly and cautiously on their way to class. They looked around every corner, all the while keeping a suspicious eye on whatever Marauder was nearest them. At first, it seemed to be peaceful. There was an unnatural silence around the place, and even footsteps were muffled. Then, everything exploded.

Spells came from everywhere. The first thought was a Death Eater attack - how else would so many people get in here, and why would they be pointing wands at them? But when the spells' affects began to be clear, they realized it was not. It was possibly the only thing that scared them more than Death Eaters. Marauders.

"_POTTER!" _Lily's screech came flying down the corridor. "_WHEN I GET A HOLD OF YOU, YOU'RE GOING TO WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN!" _Harry felt a bit sorry for his father.

Everyone (including Harry, James, Sirius, and Remus) had been switched into another body - including teachers. Harry himself had requested Professor Dumbledore, and was currently in the form of the aged wizard, though it was rather strange sight as he was grinning wildly and twirling his long moustache with the air of someone who has commited something terrible/amazing/evil/awesome. This was, needless to say, not something Dumbledore had ever done.

James, to his right, was in the body of Professor McGonagall (this was also his request) though he was holding up the charade better than Harry. Suddenly, the stomping figure of a first-year Slytherin came storming down the corridor. The students made a path before her, even the paintings cringing in sympathy for whoever was at the end of her fury.

"_POTTER!" _The little girl screeched. She attempted flick her hair across her shoulder, and failed, as the girls' hair was pixie-short. This made it more comical than it already was, but did nothing to diminish the anger of the glowering first year. She stomped up to the body of James - though whose soul filled it was unknown - and looked up at him (or her, possibly) with slitted eyes.

"What did you do!" James looked un-charactaristically scared and cowed. He shifted uncomfortably, then stuttered out,

"U-Uh... I d-d-don't think you have t-the r-right p-p-person, miss..." he trailed off his sentance, and scurried away, shoulders hunched. For the first time since he'd met her, Lily looked completely gobsmacked. (Though it would have been much perferable to see this rare expression on her face.) It hadn't even crossed her mind that he might've changed his own body for another.

She recovered, and whipped around - looking up at all the now-foot-taller-than-her figures behind her. She spoke quietly, yet menacingly with a definite Slytherin glint in her eye. "Where is he?"

She asked. James, in the form of McGonagall, gulped. Then, he managed to recover himself and said in his (well-practiced) strict voice,

"I'll assume that is you, Miss. Evans?" She turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Professor?" She asked hesitantly. "They didn't change teachers?" She looked highly suspiscious for a few seconds, looking McGonagall/James up and down with a critical eye. Then,

"Ah hah!" She was triumphant. "They must think it would be funnier to be able to tell who is the teachers, so they could see their reactions!" James looked completely surprised that she had fallen for it, but didn't correct her, only nodding.

"Good hypothesis, Miss Evans. Headmaster?" The head of Gryffindors' regal head swiveled towards Harry. "What do you think?" Harry swirled his wand, (this went unnoticed under his flowing sleeves) pointing it at his eyes. It took affect, and immediately caused his eyes to twinkle behind his glasses. He tilted his head downwards slightly condecendingly at them, and smiled sagely.

"I have a feeling Miss. Evans may be right, Minerva." Harry almost burst out laughing at, 'Minerva.' It was just weird not calling her either 'Minnie' or 'Professor.' "That does seem the sort of type of thing they would enjoy." He pulled a lemon drop from a hidden pocket in his robe and popped it into his mouth.

His Dumbledore-mannerisms seemed to have convinced the now first-year-ified Lily, because she turned back to James-McGonagall and said,

"Should we find the pranksters themselves, Professor?" James, who was enjoying this very much, nodded swiftly and swirled the heads' long robes as he turned around and headed up the stairwell to the second floor. They disappeared together, leaving Harry alone in the form of the Headmaster.

The students were looking up at him slightly-reverantly, which made him uncomfortable. Luckily, though it was to his great chagrin, he was used to unwanted attention, so he barely spared an off glance as he walked in a very Dumbledore-esque manner towards the Great Hall.

Handily, the crowd parted before him despite the confusion. He reached the Great Hall in record time, and he immediately pointed his wand at his throat and whispered,

"_Sonorus._" He stepped up to the teachers' platform and began to speak.

"Silence, students!" They quieted for a second, startled, but immediately began to speak again. Harry wasn't all to surprised at this behavior; they were stuck in another person's body, after all. He couldn't blame them.

He withdrew his wand, and flicked it wordlessly at the crowd in front of him, thinking: _Silencio._

Normally, he wouldn't use such a large-area Silencing Charm when he could probably command their silence another way, but it was what Dumbledore and his seemingly endless supply of magical energy would have done, and so he did so. He scanned the sea of shifting students before him. Most of them were still examining themselves disbelievingly.

"It seems, that we have had a trick played on us." Harry didn't look angry, in true Dumbledore-esque fashion, and the students muttered. "I have, myself, attempted to end this spell. Under normal circumstances, it would have worked - no doubt. But it seems that a few students were clever enough to create a ward or unique spell of some sort over the school."

"Why aren't you changed, professor?" An unidentifiable voice yelled from the crowd.

"It seems that part of their little prank," there was some angry muttering at the word, 'little,' "was to leave the teachers. Most presumably to be able to see their reactions." Harry couldn't help but notice a few people in the crowd (a Ravenclaw fourth-year, a Slytherin seventh-year, and a Hufflepuff first year, most markedly) attempting to speak, but failing through silencing charms Sirius and Remus had placed. _Those will be the changed teachers. _He could hardly keep himself from laughing when he saw a petite, blonde second-year (he thought she might have been called something like Josie, or Jean) standing regally, eyes twinkling. He had no doubt that this, despite all appearances, was Dumbledore himself. He also had no doubt that the headmaster was enjoying this.

"What should we do, Professor Dumbledore?" Said a nervous, shy-sounding voice. This voice came, comically, from the body of Antonin Dolohov. Dolohov's body was cowering uncomfortably, and was obviously not used to either his height, nor his natural, cruel demeanor. Harry hoped the real Dolohov could see his body right now, from whoever's body he was currently residing in.

Harry pretended to look thoughtful, though he had decided beforehand what to say in answer to this question.

"Professors McGonagall, Sprout, and Odolphus?" The three professors, his fellow Marauders in disguise, straightened. "Would you come here, please?" None of the three said anything, simply nodding and stepping onto the platform on which Harry was standing. Harry, in another Dumbledore-like (though rather unnecessary) show of magical strength, used wandless magic to create a silencing barrier around them. He had specifically chosen not to use Muffliato, with the creator currently standing in the crowd.

The first-year, feminine Dumbledore looked startled for the first time. Now, she (or he) began to furrow her brow, trying to figure out which of the four was the most likely to have been able to perform that. Harry ripped his eyes away from the Headmaster, and back to the other "teachers."

"Remember," this time, he spoke more in his own speech-style, "though they can't hear us, they can see us. Keep in character." Sirius - Professor Odolphus - nodded, looking (purposely) like an over-excited child. James nodded primly, in a perfect imitation of the strict Transfiguration teacher.

"Sweet." Harry almost cracked up at hearing that word - meant in the slang, of course - coming from the professor's mouth. "So, once we announce the schedule, I go to the Transfiguration classroom-" Remus cut him off, taking care to look stern in Sprout's body.

"We all know, James. I go to the greenhouses, and Sirius goes to Defence. And Harry..." he trailed off uncertainly. "What exactly _does_ Harry do?" What would Harry do? Go up to 'his' office? Harry gulped, though he was able to pass it off to their curious audience as a smile. _Crap._

"Why don't I..." he racked his brains. _What did Dumbledore do in his spare time? _"I could... go to Hogsmeade?" The other three looked at him flatly. "Kidding, kidding..." _Mostly._

"Why don't you go outside and pretend to set up for the main events?" This was Sirius, sounding (and acting) well... _serious_ for once. Harry's heart lifted.

"Good idea, Sirius. Okay, now I'm going to remove the silence ward." He waved his hand again almost passively, and there was a barely noticeable sizzling sound as the ward disappeared.

Harry didn't turn to look at "Dumbledore," was sure his (or her) eyes were narrowed, trying to figure him out. Harry/Dumbledore began to speak in the man's usual, grand way.

"We shall begin classes as usual," there was a universal groan, "-through second period." A cheer. "After second period, all students and staff shall come outside to the grounds where we will... meet, shall I say?" Hissing whispers swept the hall, all of the student body speaking into some ear or another.

"Is this understood?" There were mostly murmurs of assent, except for one feminine voice from the front. It appeared to be a tall, dark-haired girl - most likely a 5th or 6th year.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said doubtfully, "which classes should we go to? The classes of our... soul, or body?" This was a good question, and one the four "professors" had been expecting. As they had planned, Remus answered.

"I would prefer you go to the lesson of the body you currently have. Is that correct, Headmaster?" Harry nodded, barely containing a grin. _Headmaster. Heh._

"The reason for this is that, respecting your privacy, some of you may not want the body they are currently in to be revealed." There were a few nodds, and sighs of relief; as well as a few groans of annoyance. "However, we do not expect you all to know what classes your... erm... body has for the first two periods, so Professor McGonagall has kindly created schedules.

James waved his wand (he had practiced this many times before) and several large piles of paper appeared on each house table in seven stacks. The students crept over to the papers curiously, searching for their name on the lists and retrieving their schedules.

A minute or two later, all the students were examining their papers - some looking relaxed, others (understandably) stressed. _This, however, is part of the fun. _Harry thought to himself. _It most certainly will be intersting to see how firsties do in seventh year classes, and seventh years in first years. BUAHAHAHAHA!_

Had any of the current audience known Occulmency (though is was doubtful they would have been able to break through the combined forces of Harry's shields and Dumbledore's pendant, which had extra protection charmed into it) they would have become very scared.

"Is everything clear now?" Harry asked, once again making his eyes twinkle with a swish of his wand. There were scattered nods. "Excellent!" He clapped his hands once, and the lights brightened. "Now, students, head to your assigned classes. If you have any questions about classroom placement you may come ask me, or Professors McGonagall, Odolphus, or Sprout.

With that, the students - most of whom still looked confused, excited or creeped out - filed slowly out of the Hall towards classes; only a few straggling behind to ask questions. Not for the first time that day, Harry suppressed a grin. However, this time (once the students had left, anyways) he didn't hold back and laughed full out. His laughter, which was strangely cough-like and old sounding, almost made his stop in his tracks. _Man, it sure is weird hearing someone else's voice come from my mouth. _

He was alone in the Great Hall, and it struck him that this was the first time he had been there without anyone else. Even the ghosts had abandoned it, apparently watching the strangeness unravel. A chill ran up his back. There was an unmistakably foreboding feel to the room. _But then again, _he reasoned, _this is the largest prank the Marauders have ever pulled off. Something is sure to go wrong. _

If only he knew how wrong it would go.

...o0O0o...

Harry, having completed the preparations in barely a half an hour, was laughing harder than he had in ages. He was leaning back in the Headmaster's chair in Dumbledore's all-too-familiar office, gazing into the rocky-bottomed pensive. Normally, he wouldn't be using it without permission (the time he had by accident in fourth year didn't count) but he wasn't intruding on privacy so he supposed it didn't count. It was like using someone else's television set. Potentially a bit uncomfortable if they come in, but not enough to get them mad.

He was currently tapping in to the various magically-altered video cameras he had strategically placed in each classroom. In short; the whole school was in complete pandemonium. He was currently watching a Herbology class which contained Dumbledore's feminine form. All the students were even louder than usual, looking at each other curiously. As it was a relatively low-level class, most of the students looked bored - having learned this years ago. However, because of said boredom, many more things were going on.

For one, a brown-haired boy was sending spitballs easily through the room. Sprout/Remus noticed and banished them immediately, though Harry saw that it pained him. But it was good that he was keeping up with appearances. The students, for once, knew that there would be no repercussions for any trouble they made. How could they be in trouble? The teachers wouldn't know who to punish, or even which House to take points from!

Scanning his eyes about the room, he saw people cursing plants (Bat-Bogey Hexes and Selective Enlargement Charms seemed to be the most popular choices), each other (Silencing Charms accompanied by Tickling Hexes, usually) and most everything else they could aim at in the room.

However, magical pranks were by no means the extent of their imagination. Harry noticed someone rigging up a bucket of water over the Greenhouse doorway, and placing Murtsap juice (an orange, oil-textured sap) on the floor around a few other students.

However, this in itself would not usually be worth a laugh like Harry was giving off now. Dumbledore - in all his petite, blonde glory - causing complete havoc and confusion. Being the most acclaimed wizard of the 19th and 20th centuries, he had apparently picked up a few good pranking spells. Harry had previously tried to write a list of their effects (to replicate later) but had long-since had to stop from laughter, and the tears of mirth that were pouring down his cheeks.

An Oblivious Charm had been placed around the room, (though the charm-proof video camera had been spared) making the occupants completely... well... _oblivious_ to what he was doing. _Or she?_

He had begun with the simple spells. Hair-color change and the like. This in itself raised a few smiles from Harry, but when you bunked with the Marauders (much less when you _were_ a Marauder) you had much higher standards. Then, things started to get interesting. Now, each of the plants was sporting a bright pink, flashing pin attached to a stalk or leaf. Each of the logos were different - some said things like: "Corn = Da' best toothpaste" (An utterly humorless, yet hilarious statement) while others proclaimed such things as, "Thestrals: The messengers of bad luck, or misunderstood, deceased ponies?" This also, was a standout example of Dumbledore's one-of-a-kind humor.

In addition, he had strung Christmas decorations around the room (a few of them including petrified house elves) and charmed each girl's shirt to sing, "Fergilicious" (though the humor was lost on Purebloods and numerous half-bloods) while the boy's sang: "Sexy Back."

This, in accumulation, was one of the strangest sights Harry had ever seen. And that was saying something.

Finally, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from that screen and onto the Transfiguration room. In this room, resided (interestingly) the newly-inhabited bodies of James, Sirius, Remus, and him, in addition to Severus Snape and several other future-Death Eaters.

First of all, he swept the room with his eyes; taking in all the newly-founded habits of the bodies. James was acting generally normal, at least. He looked vaguely bored, though his hand was studiously taking notes seemingly of it's own accord. If Harry had to guess, he would wager it was an older-year Ravenclaw. Sirius, on the other hand, was acting completely out of character. He was sitting nervously, knees crossed and spine erect. He was taking notes attentively, writing in flowing calligraphy-esque writing.

Harry spent quite a while just looking at him and laughing. Peter, also, had been singled out for a special person to switch with. For a second, Harry felt remorseful of their new attitude towards the smallest member of their dorm. Then, he remembered who he was feeling sorry for. _The rat. _Harry glared uselessly down at the plump, watery-eyed boy as he slapped his butt in James's face. It had been apt to switch Peter with a rather... showy prankster. Currently in said rat's body, Daniel Tauksworth was residing.

Harry had been rather surprised to hear from his dad (that never ceased to give him a chill) about Daniel Tauksworth; or more commonly - Dan. He lead a sort of watered-down version of the Marauders along with Amos Diggory, and Rodrick Boot. All three were Hufflepuffs, and proud of it. Unlike the Marauders, however, they pranked solely to entertain Hogwarts and bring more laughter to it's halls. Laughter that, now a'days, was hard to come by. They focused on untraceable, Muggle-inspired pranks. Harry held a certain respect for them, and felt a bit ashamed when he realized (in comparison) the Marauders were rather immature and self-serving. _Or at least,_ he thought with some pride, _they were before I came along. _

Harry snorted again at Dan, who by now had changed tactics and was hanging by the crossbeams on the domed ceiling with his (nicely transfigured, Harry noted) orangutan arms. Though the rest of the class couldn't tell (they didn't know James half as well as Harry did, and would have never believed him capable of holding in a laugh) he knew James was trying his very hardest to to burst into a fit of laughter. Instead, the usually-strict professor awarded him ten points to Hufflepuff, for "excellent human-animal transfiguration." This was met with general astonishment, and snorts of disbelief.

After watching the rather uncharacteristic, new habits of Remus (Remus's body was, apparently, being commandeered by a slacker - an amusing sight) and Lily (who housed a character disappointingly similar to herself) Harry forced himself to wave his wand, and change the screen to the next class.

In the Defense Room, Sirius was teaching a class of very confused fourth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors about the dangers of Redcap attacks. He alternated between speaking rather fast, and getting worked up; to an agonizingly lazy and slow monotone. This wasn't too far off the professor's usual character, and though a few students acted a bit suspicious, none voiced any of their doubts of their teacher's identity. It was, apparently, not worth possibly loosing House points. _Not,_ Harry reconsidered, _that Sirius would take any. Or that he would know what house to take from. _

The entertainment level was diminished in that classroom, as he didn't know any fourth year Ravenclaws or Gryffindors except one - Xenophilius Lovegood. Or, rather, the body of him. Though if Harry had to guess, he personally thought ol' Xeno's soul resided in Theodore Nott's (the first) body, back in Transfiguration. He had been making some comments about Nargles being the cause of this change, and looking generally misty-eyed.

Xenophilius's body, however, seemed completely lost in the lesson. Harry guessed it was inhabited by a second or third year, who had not actually learned what Redcaps _were_ yet. He felt a small stab of pity towards the poor, "innocent" firsties who were no doubt scattered around the school, anxiously trying to understand the class material. _Though it most certainly makes it more interesting. _

After he finished watching Sirius's questionable teaching skills, Harry flicked around the other classrooms. Charms... Astronomy... Runes... et cetra. These weren't as interesting, the normal teachers were teaching (though they were clueless to the fact that the Marauders were in a few of their comrade's bodies) though he chuckled a few times upon seeing a familar face.

Among them, there was Rita Skeeter, (now shooting spitballs at the back of Trelawny's headscarf, and drawing faces on the crystal balls they were studying) who Harry _thought_ was Tonks (taking studious notes in her first-year body) and Bill Weasley.

Harry sat up in Dumbledore's chair for thirty minutes before he allowed himself to acknowledge the horrible truth... _I'm bored._

...o0O0o...

After another long hour of rather annoyed boredom, it was finally time to begin the Main Event. (Harry sternly thought that it deserved capitol letters.) Everything was in place. He was waiting outside, sitting in a relaxed manner - lounging (in a determinedly Dumbledore fashion) back into a cushioned lawn-chair.

Finally, the first students strolled out of the greenhouse - looking excited. It wasn't often things like this happened. Harry/Dumbledore waited about ten more minutes before the whole school was present, and looking amazedly around them. Usually, it would've been a hubbub of noise, but today nobody knew who to talk to.

Some were looking sideways at the bodies of themselves, looking freaked out once again. Still others were still (attempting) to prank. In the space of five minutes, Harry had had at least 25 prank spells, 4 or so muggle pranks, and many other attempts at pranking the white-haired Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Harry, though, didn't blame them a bit - and was rather enjoying dodging their attempts and hearing the unanimous groans when yet another "attack" failed.

When everyone had quieted down, he began to speak: "Students and staff of Hogwarts." Everybody perked up. It was rare that Dumbledore was this formal. Harry could practically see their minds turning over possibilities. "We have gathered here today for the beginning of what I hope will be an annual tradition." He allowed a few seconds for whispers of question to sweep through his audience.

"A festival, of sorts." Harry innerly sighed. This had been a subject of debate between the Marauders (including him.) James and Sirius had wanted this section of the day to be another, more wide-spread prank. Remus and he, however, had voted a festival - hopefully so that it would become a tradition in Hogwarts, and a small break in future years.

This, they speculated, would be a much better way to be known for years to come. They had already achieved the spot of "Worst" (or best, depending on your point of view) "Prank Group," by the teachers - unofficially, of course. This would make them known to people for generations to come! Sirius and James had eventually agreed, though they were still a bit annoyed.

"A festival?" Came a scathing voice from a Hufflepuff's body - an unusual occurance. "Isn't that a muggle thing?" Harry looked slightly repremandingly at the student.

"No, my dear Mr. Goyle, it is not." There were scattered laughs and whispers that one of the Slytherin "powerhouses" had been given a Hufflepuff body. Harry, of course, had known who he was as he they had personally chosen all the bodies of their enemys.

"A festival is not a muggle thing at all, though it is no shame to enjoy muggle things in the first place. A festival is simply a celebration, much like Christmas. Which was, I may add, invented my muggles." A few people whispered to each other darkly and curiously at that.

"Now, we shall begin with-" But he never got any further than that. Because just as he began to explain the day's activities, the unthinkable happened. For a second there was silence. Harry blinked. _Is this really happening?_

Then, a single girl's scream rent the air. The Death Eaters had arrived.

**A/N: sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry I haven't updated much lately! I've been super-busy - reading "Crocodile Tears," (The new Alex Rider book,) doing school work (spanish class is evil...) and working on my other stories. :) If you have any ideas you want to submit, though, they're totally welcome. I've been in a bit of a writer's block here. Any idea-filled reviews would bring another chapter sooner... *nudge nudge***

**R**

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**~AQUAHINA**


	12. Invasion

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter Twelve: Invasion

Complete and total chaos had enveloped the grounds. Most were terrified - though a good number were unsure if this was a part of the prank, and not wanting to make a fool of themselves if it was. Strangely, the cloaked wizards seemed to be waiting for something... or someone. Barely a ten seconds after they arrived, Harry found out what.

In a flash, Voldemort was there - looking only slightly more humanoid than when Harry had seen him last. The same red eyes. The same skin - pale as a sheet of paper. Same... everything. He knew he should be doing something, but he wasn't sure what. His mind was overwhelmed with confusion, urgency, and fear. _Voldemort is here_. It was surreal, almost. Harry had killed him, be it by chance or not. Though he knew, and had contemplated, the fact that he was alive in this time, he had never really had it sink in that he was actually in danger from him. It just didn't seem fair somehow that he should still be in danger from him.

He looked down, and realized another fact. This realization thudded against his chest in an almost tangible way, as if someone had thrown the words down his throat. He was Dumbledore. Dumbledore. _Dumbledore_.

_Holy shit. _

This was easily one of the toughest spots he'd ever been in. He was being attacked. The irregular death of any single person here could change the future in a bad way. If his father died... he shivered. The results would be horrible. And to make it worse, he was occupying the body of the revered dueling master of the 19th, 20th, and (soon-to-be) 21st centuries. And no one knew that it wasn't Dumbledore in the old man's body. It was Harry. Sure, it was better than if it had been any old person in the Headmaster's body (at least he was a good dueler by any standard) but it was doubtful - verging on impossible - that he could beat Voldemort.

Plus, for the first time, he wasn't trying to kill him. He actually couldn't kill him. His orders had been clear - don't change anything. _Forget the rules_. A small voice in his head said. T_ry your hardest to kill him. If you succeed, imagine what the future could be like? How many more people would be alive? Hundreds? Thousands, probably._

Harry tightened his grip around his wand, (the elder wand, he noticed absently) glaring at the man in front of him. No one had moved yet in their Death Party. They were just standing there - enjoying the fear they invoked by their very presence. It was sick. Barely daring to take his eyes from the cloaked men, he swept the grounds for James, Sirius, and Remus. After a few seconds, he found them. They, apparently, had reached the same conclusion he had. They were in

T-R-O-U-B-L-E, trouble.

James was looking panicked, his eyes flitting from left to right - unsure what to do. Remus had immediately leaped into action, and was currently placing disillusionment charms on the younger year students, and levitating them up the castle walls into various towers in groups. Sirius was a bigger problem. As Harry had learned he tended to do when things went horribly wrong, or strange, he was doubled over laughing maniacally. Though the students were preoccupied at the moment, a good number saw him and assumed one of two things; 1) he was actually a Death Eater in disguise, or 2) he had finally lost it.

Sending his first spell in the battle, Harry sent a powerful _Aguamenti_ charm arching over to him, shaking him out of his delirium. The dog animagus shook himself dry, and blinked - taking in the situation. He immediately spotted the still-disoriented James, and sprinted over to him, grabbed him, and took him over to Remus to help levitate students. Harry nodded almost to himself. _Good_.

Then, he shifted his attention to the evil man before him. Voldemort was staring right at him, smiling slightly. His smile said many things. "Hah! I beat you!" and "You will suffer" predominately. Suddenly, Harry felt a tidal wave of hate flow through him, stronger than any emotion he had felt perhaps ever. This was the man who had killed his parents. That sentence had a whole new meaning now that he actually knew them as people and less a revered idols. He had killed James and Lily. He was responsible for Sirius and Remus's deaths. Dumbledore's death. Fred. Tonks. Mad-eye. Even the death of Peter Pettigrew as a good person. The list went on and on.

Harry's heart thudded heatedly against his chest. But unlike barely half a minute ago, when they had appeared, now it was filled with anticipation for the coming fight. He knew now that no matter what anyone else said, he would try to kill Voldemort in this time. How could the consequences be bad? Harry smirked in a decidedly un-Dumbledore fashion, and walked towards the cloaked and masked men with king-like grace. Even the rushing (now thin) crowd broke to let him through.

"Tom." He said, barely remembering to keep up his disguise as the Headmaster, though he still would have called him that - if only to annoy the man... or whatever he was. "It was not wise to come here today." Voldemort bared his teeth in an animalistic fashion - half menacing, half smiling.

"You cannot stand up to me, old man. You are weak. Old. You do not stand a fool's chance against my power!" He laughed coldly and confidently. His lackeys were shifting by now, wanting to pursue the fleeing students. Harry's eyes hardened, and he spoke once again.

"If you have one bit of self-respect, or knowledge, you will leave right this moment. I will not hold back on you, Riddle. I held back to see if there was any chance I could revive the person you used to be. I now see that quest is fruitless, if you are willing to invade your first true home." Harry's eyes hardened, though it did not have the effect it did when he had his normal emerald orbs.

By now, only a few teachers and a handful of students remained on the grounds to fight the Death Eater - all of whom looked very disappointed at the lack of children to torture. It was, however, a very strange gathering of people.

Unsurprisingly, it included all the teachers except Professor Slughorn. He would, no doubt, claim later that he went inside to keep the students safe, though Harry doubted that was his first priority. Because most of the teachers were in their own bodies, they looked very much in-character - only James, Sirius and Remus standing out with their scared and uncomfortable expressions.

Also present was the girl-Dumbledore (who had for some inexplicable reason decided not to reveal that he was not, in fact, a first year) and about fifteen other students in all - ranging from first to seventh year. The Death Eaters looked confused at the mixed grades present - they had obviously not expected to be fighting first years.

_Good_. Harry thought with a slightly sadistic grin on his face. _Let them be ashamed when Dumbledore kicks their asses._ For a second, he wondered if this was perhaps Dumbledore's plan. To make they see that they overestimated their own abilities - as none of them would be capable of bringing down the Headmaster. It was a good plan, Harry supposed, though it did have a few small loopholes.

For about a minutes, the opposing forces stood stock still - just staring each other down. Their numbers were about evenly matched - averaging about thirty fighters on each side. Harry was staring directly into Voldemort's eyes. Voldemort, on the other hand, was taking no notice of him and letting his eyes wander around the grounds and the castle. If he had been any other man, Harry would have thought he saw of bit of sadness or regret in his eyes as he gazed snake-like into the (now spelled shut) castle windows.

It was, in fact, his first real home - not unlike Harry. For a moment, but he soon dismissed the thought. Even if the... creature still had some feelings for the old castle, they obviously weren't enough to stop him from attacking it like he was. Harry's face hardened, and he rolled his shoulders backwards - readying them.

The first spell was cast in an explosion of fast-moving, purple light towards Harry. Harry leaped aside, and Voldemort looked surprised at (who he thought was Dumbledore's) the agility he showed. Barely a moment later, Harry rocketed a barrage of spells towards the masked wizards. They hastily erected shield charms - but one person on the far left didn't manage to protect himself and collapsed.

As he continued to throw spells, Harry noticed several other Death Eaters attempting to revive him. Key word: attempting. He sighed in relief. _Well, that certainly confirms that my invented semi-permanent Stunner works. _Harry absolutely loved to invent spells - and that was one of the things that really marked him as a good dueling opponent. You never knew what he would throw out next.

"Avada Kedarva!" Voldemort hissed, his voice somehow carrying in the din of the fight. Automatically, Harry threw himself to the ground, landing animalistic-ly on the tips of his fingers and the balls of his feet. He was surprised to feel a shudder of pain course through him. His knees seemed to hurt especially... and that was when he remembered.

He was in Dumbledore's body. Dumbledore as in... what, 100-something years old? _Crap, crap, crap, crap_! Dodging, not shielding, was a large part of his dueling style. It would be hard, if not impossible, to change his dueling style (something you accumulated over years of training) in just a few minutes, like he would have to now.

Still internally cursing, he wandlessly channeled magic into his body and immediatly felt strength course through him again. He sprang up, just in time to avoid a rather nasty Cruciatus Curse sent by an unknown source to his right. He pivoted around on his right foot (still trying to limit his movements) and sent another of his modified stunners at him.

He fell over with a thud, nearly knocking over one of his comrades - who was dueling James. This, in turn, allowed James to get the Death Eater with a nasty Cutting Hex.

Little by little, fighters from each side were put out of commission. Though none of their side died - mostly due to the combined efforts of Harry and Dumbledore - about ten lay unconscious or bleeding, unable to continue. On the Death Eater's side, about five lay unconscious from Harry's spell (he had barely used any other spell the entire fight) and four more lay unconscious and bleeding - the work of others.

Harry himself was a whirl of action - barely stopping for a second. Both he and his main adversary, Voldemort, had temporarily put off fighting each other - choosing to help the masses. The snake man was currently fighting Professor Locksley, Professor Sinatra, a sixth year Harry didn't know, and Sirius. However, despite him being outnumbered, Voldemort was tied with them. He blocked every curse, and unlike the people he was fighting, he didn't hesiatate to use Unforgivable Curses. This, though he admired the students and teachers for not resorting to it, gave them a huge disadvantage.

After watching Sinatra get hit by a drawn out Cruciatus, he could stand it no longer. Quickly finishing off his current opponent (who Harry inwardly suspected to be Gregory Goyle the elder), Harry apparated behind Voldemort - trying for the element of surprise. But just as he began to cast the spell he was planning on using, Voldemort whipped around just as fast and sent an Imperious at him. Unable to duck, he was hit by the blue beam of light straight in the chest. Voldemort laughed manically, throwing back his head and exposing his slightly pointed teeth.

Suddenly, Harry heard it. _Kill the blonde girl to your right. The one who somehow fights like she can - unlike a barely educated first year should. _Harry swiveled his head towards the girl he was apparently talking about, or rather, Dumbledore. _Yes, that girl. Kill her and all the students you can, as well as McGonagall. _Harry tried to throw it off, not feeling too worried. But with a gargantuan thud of his heart, he realized he couldn't. The curse was staying on him - refusing to let go.

"No!" He heard someone shout from behind him. It sounded panicked, and he vaguely recognized it as Professor Sprout's voice. _Kill the girl! What are you doing, just standing there? _Harry was tempted. Somehow he knew that if he killed the girl he was talking about, important as she may be (though he couldn't remember why he thought she was important), everything would be OK. He lifted his wand, and began to turn. Then, he blinked.

_Wait, why should I kill her? She's never done anything to me. _This, in his opinion, was a rather good argument. Though, he noticed, she was a good dueler. He really must remember to compliment her on that later.

_KILL HER! Don't just stand there! _

_No!_

_Yes, kill her you imbecile!_

_Why should I?_

_Because... because I said so! Just kill her already! _It was then that Harry finally returned to his senses. With an enormous amount of effort, Harry finally managed to throw off the curse. He breathed deeply, as if being under the Imperius's affects had somehow exhausted him. He supposed he should have guessed that Voldemort's curses would be much stronger than any other curse he'd ever been under. He shivered, dodging a few spells aimed at him only by instinct, and continued to fight.

"Avada Kedarva!" Voldemort screeched once again, once again pointed at who he thought was Dumbledore.

Harry leaped to the side, narrowly missing the green light. "Sectumsempra!" He yelled, sending back another curse barely a second later. Voldemort almost lazily put up a shield, but to his surprise, broke. The magic put into the shield exploded in a burst of blue light, momentarily blinding everyone present. When the light dissipated, Voldemort was mostly all right, (to Harry's disappointment) except for a few cuts on his face and arm which were bleeding blood that seemed deeper red than normal.

"Exito!" He said, pointing his wand at a rock behind his opponent. "Compleo!" The rock behind Voldemort turned metallic silver, and began to morph. In barely a few seconds, it was humanoid, and seemed to be holding a sword attached to his (or her) hand. "Oppungo!" And it attacked viciously, sword flying every which way. Voldemort narrowed his eyes, and attempted to kill it with an, "Avada Kedarva," but (to his surprise) failed. You can't kill a rock, after all. While Voldemort was occupied with the transfigured stone, Harry helped his friends.

He cursed Lucius Malfoy (who'd been attacking Dumbledore), and four other people he didn't recognize who were attacking the teachers. Five seconds later, Voldemort had found a simple way to stop the rock as a threat.

"Impedimenta!" He hissed, offended and annoyed that this simple transfiguration was giving him so much trouble. The strength of the spell halted the figure all together, leaving the silvery person stopped in mid-swing; his weapon raised high above his head for a slice that would never happen.

Harry was rather surprised at Voldemort's spell choice. Come to think of it, he'd never actually seen the old man use any other spell other than Unforgivibles, and a few other curses at the Ministry of Magic when he was dueling with Dumbledore.

Personally, Harry thought this significantly lowered the man's scare-factor - but that was only him. Harry pondered on this distractectedly as he dodged (yet another) beam of green light from the enraged Voldemort. Snapping himself out of thinking, he decided it would increase his health dramatically if he actually paid attention to the fight he was having with the most feared wizard of in the last two hundred years.

_Spell. Duck. Shield. Swerve. Distract._

_Attack Death Eaters while Voldemort is distracted. Dodge extremely quickly._

_Attack. Attack. Defend. Save someone from nearly certain death._

_Transfigure something. Have it attack Voldemort. Duck. Spell. Spell._

_Dodge. Shield. Attack. Help James. Help Remus. Stun Death Eater. Duck Unforgivable Curse._

_Attack. Shield. Attack. Shield. Swerve. Attack Death Eater. Spell. Spell._

_Spell. Spell. Shield! Shield! Stronger Shield! Ahh... safe._

For the next fifteen minutes, these thoughts encompassed Harry's brain. For the last five minutes, the only people left standing had been Harry/Dumbledore, Dumbledore/First-Year-Whose-Name-Harry-Didn't-Know, Professor Sinatra, someone who appeared to be a fifth year Ravenclaw, James/McGonagall, Sirius/Sprout, and a Slytherin in fourth year.

Remus had been hit with a nasty cutting hex, and though Madame Pomfrey (who was still fighting at that time) had managed to patch him up enough so he wouldn't be in life-threatening danger - it would still be days before he could walk again, let alone fight.

All of them were fighting hard against the opposing forces of Voldemort and his lackeys, but it wasn't enough. They were winning, and they all knew it.

Besides the big cheese himself (Voldemort) there were seven Death Eaters left - and they were the best of the best. Through their now lopsided masks, Harry thought he recognized Lucius Malfoy, Bartimus Crouch Jr., Bellatrix Lestrange, and who he thought might be Fenrir Greyback. These suspicions were only confirmed when he saw that Remus was attacking him with a vengeance.

When the fourth-year Slytherin boy was downed by a painful looking Bludgeoning Hex, he knew it couldn't go on any longer. One by one, everyone would be taken out and Voldemort would have victory. Harry couldn't help but think that everything would be fine if they hadn't played this prank on this particular day. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _He berrated himself, though he knew in his heart that it wasn't really his fault.

"Voldemort!" He yelled, creating the only human voice other than the occasional cry of pain from either side. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, formally challenge you to a Wizard's Duel."

**A/N: Woot! Sorry this chappie isn't too long, but I just wanted to get this out soon because I pitied you poor people whom I left screaming curses at me on a cliffhanger. Heh... sorry, I was feeling rather evil that day...**

**On another note! I have a poll up about what sort of oneshot I should right next (the genre, anyways) so if you want me to make a new oneshot - turn in your vote!**

**Also, if you didn't notice, I've started a new HP story called, "Recognition." The summary is:**

**Remus and Harry meet for the first time, on the Hogwarts express. At first, all seems normal, but when Remus sparks recognition in Harry's memory what will happen next? No Slash, Abuse mentioned, eventual HHr.**

**Yes, this too is HarryxHermione unlike canon but I just love the pairing! If you review this or "Recognition," I'll probably update faster... *hint hint wink wink nudge nudge***

**~Aquahina**


	13. Duel

**A/N: Sorry I've kept you all waiting! Christmas and all that, you know? **

**Okay, so my story is pretty much wrapping up here. I'll probably have about a total of 16 or 15 chapters; only two or three more. I'm half sad, half relieved. I have to admit, my muse had been a bit absent of late. However, I persevered for my faithful (though not plentiful) readers and REVIEWERS *hint hint* so I'm going to finish. **

**Another note, I have another piece going, called "Recognition." It's about an event I thought should have happened in the third book during the meeting between Remus and Harry. I mean, how awesome would it be if Harry recognized Remy!?! So that's pretty much that story. It's currently at about 13,000 words. **

**Tambien, I have a third story going for the Naruto fandom though I have not started posting yet. I'm gonna try to keep a few chappies ahead on that one. I've already made 4 chapters, and I like it so far. I haven't decided on a name yet, but keep a wary eye!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Though I would pwn Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort, Snape (sorry, guys, I just DON'T LIKE HIM. IT. IS. CREEPY. THAT. HE. LOVED. LILY.), and Rita Skeeter if I had the chance. Not that I actually DO have a chance, though... :(**

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen: Duel_

The aged - and yet still powerful - voice of Dumbledore rung throughout the grounds, despite the fact that Harry had uttered the challenge. Everything stopped, as was protocol, though most Death Eaters and a few teachers looked like they wanted to hang protocol and get on with the battle. However, most fighter on the Light's side looked more worried for whom they thought was Dumbledore, and apprehensive for the fight.

The three main standouts in expression were McGonagall, Odolphus, and the blonde first-year girl - who Harry knew to be the real Dumbledore. All three were looking at him with complete horror, their mouths agape, and eyes wide. Sirius seemed incapable of speech, looking remarkably like a fish. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Harry might have laughed. James looked much the same.

The real Dumbledore, however, looked the strangest and most puzzling of them all. He was a mixture of bewildered, horrified, unsure, and even a bit impressed. If Harry read him correctly, that is. Which he was almost sure he did. The operative word being, 'almost.'

"No!" James called out, abandoning his character of McGonagall for a second, then quickly falling back into it. "Albus, are you sure this is a good idea?" Harry nodded sagely, for once not needing to pretend to do what he was sure Dumbledore would've.

"Yes, my dear professors, I am sure. This would have been the eventual outcome anyways, and I have dueled him before and come out better." Everyone who was aware of his actual status of soul widened their eyes - catching the double meaning. Even Remus (half unconscious though he was) managed to look shocked and impressed. Sirius looked like he wanted to question him about it, and then seemed to remember who he was talking to, and snapped his mouth shut.

Harry could tell that for a moment, he'd forgotten that he was really talking to Harry Potter: (Future) Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World©, and not just Harry Jameson. Harry grimaced. If only people back in his time could remember that, his life would be a whole lot simpler, but _no_, he was in the past. =

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and turned back to his adversary. Voldemort looked surprised, and pleased with the change of events. However, there was a shadow over his face - fear, Harry would have thought. If it wasn't Voldemort, that is.

"You challenge _me_ to a duel, old man? You must be even more senile than I originally thought!" His black-robed cronies laughed demeaning, completely sure that Harry wouldn't stand a chance against their Dark Lord.

"Don't dismiss me so quickly, Tom." Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously.

"My name is not Tom! 'Tom' is a filthy muggle name!" Voldemort was nearly hysterical with rage. His whole body shook, and the sheer amount of magical power inside him began to make the air around the wizard crackle and smoke. Harry, however, was not afraid - unlike the snake's followers, who were cowering on their knees in terror. Harry almost shook his head with disdain. As it was, Voldemort seemed to be twice as angry now that he noticed his followers on their knees. Harry almost felt sorry for the Death Eaters. Almost, being the operative word.

"Fools!" Voldemort hissed, enraged even further than before. "Do not cower in the face of these weakling Mudbloods and students! _Crucio!_" The Death Eater nearest to him screeched with pain and terror combined. Harry raised an eyebrow at the display. It wasn't exactly the best tactical move at this point to injure his own forces. _All the better for us, though_.

After about half a minute, Voldemort stopped the curse, seemingly having calmed down. He turned towards Harry again, eyes silted with hate. Harry glared back, no longer bothering to do the more Dumbledore-like thing and to be the more respectful to Riddle. The time for acting was over. If Harry was going to win this fight, he couldn't keep on trying to impersonate the Headmaster. It would only drag him down and make his question his reflexes to see if they would fit with his disguise. And that was about the last thing he needed.

"Do you accept my challenge, Tom?" Voldemort hissed again in anger at being called his original name, but refrained from throwing a hissy fit about it again. Despite the dire circumstances, Harry couldn't help but snicker at the thought of Voldemort throwing a hissy fit.

"I accept." The man... er-_thing_, said vindictively. "Shall we begin?" Harry nodded, as was protocol. Though all of Harry's senses screamed not to do so, Harry turned his back on the wizard, so he faced the rest of his forces. Each and every one looked terrified for Harry, or who they thought was Dumbledore. The few standouts were his friends (James, and Sirius in particular. Remus was a bit out of it.) and Real-Dumbledore. Dumbledore's short, feminine stature resembled a king of an overthrown kingdom. Dumbledore stared at Harry pleadingly, begging him not to fight. Harry shook his head nearly incomprehensibly, and Dumbledore seemed to get the message. The who-knows-how-old man seemed to droop even further.

When Harry had walked about ten feet from his starting place, he whipped around - holding his wand tightly and readying for attack. Voldemort, on the opposing side, looked calm and collected. Harry knew that his show of uncaring malevolence was put on simply to anger and disconcert Harry but he couldn't help but feel annoyed at Voldemort's blatant confidence in the outcome of their duel. He narrowed his eyes, and waited (as was, again, protocol) for the Dark Lord to finish his showboating and to begin their match.

"Are you ready to die, old man?" Voldemort hissed, still not looking at Harry.

"Are you?" Harry countered, and Voldemort looked (once again) surprised and suspicious at Harry's un-Headmaster like attitude. He, however, did not comment on it and chose simply to say the beginning words.

"Ready your wand?" It was spoken as a question, as was meant. Harry inclined his back, forming the smallest of bows. Voldemort did the same, causing his followers to grumble unhappily. They apparently didn't like the idea of their master bowing to anyone - whether in a duel or not.

"Ready." Harry answered, muscles tightening in anticipation; right hand in a death grip around his holly and phoenix-feather wand. And Voldemort attacked.

From the first second into their fight, Harry could tell that during every other fight he'd had against Voldemort before, he'd been holding back. The Cruciatus Curse came flying out of nowhere - with barely a twitch of Voldemort's wand. Knowing that it was impossible to shield it, Harry stepped lightly to the side, allowing it to pass in front of his face. A millisecond later, he ducked, letting an Avada Kedarva fly over his head. Harry quickly sent a spell back, nearly as fast.

"_Orior Spiculum_!" He yelled, causing a deadly looking, serrated spear to rise out of the ground, right where Voldemort had been barely a second before he'd Apparated three feet to his left. In the sidelines, both sides looked confused and surprised at Harry's choice of spell. Dumbledore was well known to use only light spells, and that spell was most certainly dark.

"_Reseco!_" Voldemort hissed, unfazed. Harry shielded, and only his most powerful shield could hold back the strong spell. Even so, he skidded back a few inches with the force which with it was sent. But even then, Harry didn't have a second to spare and recover. With quick, consecutive jabs of Voldemort's wand, a barrage of multi-colored jets of light came headed Harry's way. Harry could tell from the colors (among them, acidic green and sickly yellow) that each of them were deadly in their own way.

"_Protego Maximus_!" Harry cried desperately when he saw that he could not shield himself from the last of the spells - a particularly nasty-looking purple one. The light hit Harry's shield head on, and before his eyes, Harry could see the silvery light of his spell cracking under the pressure of the spell. At the last moment, Harry dropped to the ground, diminishing his spell at the same time. Harry could hear the hiss of the curse flying just a few inches over his head.

"_Reducto_!" Harry called back with a vengeance. "_Leo Flammius_!" First, a red spell shot out towards the dark wizard, but Voldemort dodged easily, laughing contemptuously at Harry.

"Is that the best the great Albus Dumbledore can do? A shield spell and little explosion? I expected better!" He laughed in his cruel way, and was only halted when he saw the reason for Harry's lack of comeback. Harry's eyes were shut in concentration, power gushing out of him - creating flame in the shape, of all things, a lion. Voldemort's eyes widened, and he stopped his gloating to hastily conjure up a watery serpent. Harry stopped pouring power into the spell, and let it loose. The flame-lion glared at the scared Death Eaters and Voldemort, and proceeded to let loose a gigantic, deafening roar of heat.

Voldemort's water-made snake, small in comparison to the lion, began to boil from the intense heat the lion had created. Voldemort and his Death Eaters (save one, who lay screaming in agony) had projected heat shields in front of themselves as protection and were safe, much to Harry's chagrin.

"_Aquamenti Maximus_!" Voldemort screeched in anger, enraged that a lion was defeating his snake. This was symbolic in many ways to the two of them, especially. Snake versus Lion, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Harry wasn't a least bit surprised at the Dark Lord's anger of being beaten by a lion.

When the strong jet of water hit the lion, their world exploded into steam as the lion diminished with a final, angry roar. But though the lion was gone, the steam remained. Harry saw the opportunity, and cast a silent, _Commoror _spell to ensure that Voldemort's vision stayed impedimental. Knowing that the confusion wouldn't last long, Harry cast another spell. One which he had used for a slightly similar purpose only a few days ago. _Homenum Revelio_, he thought.

After the spell was cast, Harry could see in what was perhaps the strangest way he'd ever viewed the world. Everything other than the red outlines of humans faded slightly into the back ground; becoming flatter shades than before. Then, Harry saw him. Or it. (The pronoun to use for Voldemort still confused him.)

Voldemort was creeping stealthily to his left, about thirty feet away. Luckily for Harry (though it was to his great surprise and advantage) Voldemort seemed to have temporarily forgotten the Homenum Revelio spell. Harry guessed that the Dark Lord didn't exactly cut out time in his days of planning to conquer the world and kill most of the wizarding population to practice third-year level charms. Harry sent another spell straight at red-outlined figure.

_Avada Kedarva_. He thought wearily. He absolutely hated using this spell. Sure, he'd been forced to use it a few times as Head Auror in the few years after Voldemort's defeat, when a few loyal Death Eaters tried to continue the cause, but he'd never enjoyed it. Not once.

The green light sped towards Voldemort, and for a second, Harry's heart leaped into his throat. _Will it hit him_? He asked himself in trepidation. But a half-second before the spell would have hit the figure in red, Voldemort Apparated to about ten feet to his right. He'd apparently seen the curse coming. Harry sighed. _I guess my smoke-screen isn't exactly as good as I'd hoped_, he thought sadly. Though, Harry had to admit to himself, he hadn't really expected to end the battle just like that. That would have been entirely too easy, and left him on edge.

"Avada Kedarva!" Voldemort hissed, and Harry could see the red lined figure swishing his wand in a vicious downward slash. Harry (once again) crouched to avoid the curse, and felt his knees ache in protest to the activity. For a man of his age, Dumbledore was exceedingly fit; but nowhere near the level Harry was in his normal body. He could feel himself tiring, leg muscles becoming more and more weak. However, Harry wasn't anywhere near even thinking of giving up.

For the next fifteen minutes, Harry and Voldemort had a fairly straightforward duel. Curses were thrown left and right, along with the occasional transfiguration or conjured weapon. Voldemort was tiring, and everyone there knew it. The Dark Lord's movements were slowed, and though he threw his spells with no less speed than before, they were significantly less powerful than the ones he'd used at the beginning of their fight. It was obvious to Harry that Voldemort (powerful wizard though he may be) wasn't used to fighting people who could fight back well enough to challenge him for even five minutes.

When they had been fighting intensely for at least a half hour, their respective sides (Death Eaters and students/teachers) had become jumpy. Most of the students and some of the younger-looking Death Eaters were still staring in awe at the fight still going on - but mostly they were glaring at the other side. Death Eaters especially seemed to be having second thoughts on whether or not to follow the rules of a duel challenged when in a melee as they had been in before. The most important rule was that no one on either side could interfere or even fight until the duel was finished.

But everyone knew how important it was that they didn't interfere, as well. This fight that was currently going on would practically diminish the fighting force of either the Dark side, or the self-proclaimed Light side. Should Harry win (and therefore kill Voldemort) the remaining Death Eaters would have no chance against the combined forces of the teachers as well as the hundreds of students. But on the opposite side, if Dumbledore/Harry died, then Voldemort was almost guaranteed domination over not only Hogwarts, but also the Ministry and possibly the entire wizarding world. But no pressure or anything.

Harry gritted his teeth - determined not to let it show that he was tiring - and continued to duel even with these thoughts in mind. Voldemort had drawn the same conclusion, and had stopped talking/gloating/hissing during their fight about ten minutes ago; which Harry took to be a sure sign that he was going full-out.

However, at the moment, the two dueling masters were tied. Harry's magical core, with the combined forces of both Harry's power and part of Dumbledore's, was barely even diminished, but his body was weakening. On the flip side, Voldemort's magical reserves were about halfway gone from the multitude of high-power Unforgivables he'd been using, but his physical power wasn't even near the amount of strain Harry was feeling. It annoyed Harry to no end that had he been in his normal body, he would have had a lead in their fight.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry cried, finally using one of the darkest spells in his library.

"Protego." Voldemort countered, almost lazily. He'd never seen this spell before, and he obviously didn't suspect Harry of using anything darker than a tickling charm; despite his previous use of the Killing Curse among others. However, the minute Harry's spell rocketed into Voldemort's shield, the shield shattered into shards of tangible-looking light.

The forest-green spell went flying through, heading straight towards a very surprised Voldemort. He tried to duck, but only managed to dodge half-way, leaving the dark spell to slash it's say across his left cheek, and upper left shoulder and elbow. Voldemort's inhumanly colored blood came seeping out of the lacerations, running down his glaring face. His blood was metallic looking, and more orange than normal blood. It also looked to be of thicker texture, and Harry could feel a prickle going up his spine as they both stopped fighting for a second.

Harry had to rest, and Voldemort to (attempt to) heal his wounds, though he seemed to be becoming more and more frustrated as healing spell after healing spell failed on him. _Thank god for Snape and his creepy and violent spells_, Harry thought in a strange turn of events.

Harry was bent over, hands on knees in a very un-Headmaster like way. _But who cares_? He resolved defiantly. _This is a matter between life and death, and being similar to Dumbledore is one of the lowest things on my list. _Voldemort himself was still trying to heal the slashes Harry's spell has caused. They seemed to be going away slowly, (the combined effort of many spells) but unevenly and in a way that was far from the grace of the incantation Snape had used on Malfoy.

His eyes, however far away his thoughts may be, were still fixed on Voldemort. Though he longed to speak with Remus, James, Sirius... _everyone_, really, he knew that it wasn't worth taking the chance. Besides, Harry knew that if he gave the snake master even one second of give - his resolve would be smashed. By this time in his life, Harry knew his weaknesses well; compliments of Kingsley, his right hand man in the Auror office. The powerful wizard had been completely (well, almost completely) unfazed by Harry's defeat of Voldemort in what should have been his seventh year at Hogwarts, and he had absolutely no trouble in pointing out all the things Harry needed to be careful for in a fight.

Finally, Voldemort had almost finished healing his wounds and Harry was rested enough. Perhaps it was against what might be classified as, "fair," but he wasn't going to pass up a chance like this with Voldemort distracted; despite the fact that there was about a one-in-a-million chance of him hitting the wizard.

As discreetly as was possible, Harry sent a silent, _Expelliarmus!_ flying towards the still-bleeding wizard. Voldemort stepped lithely to the side, letting the spell pass to his right before promptly sending off a volley of his own spells - mostly consisting of Unforgivables. If anything, Voldemort was even more enraged after Harry had managed to draw the first blood in the fight.

"_Avada Kedarva! Crucio! Eradico_!" He hissed, sending the spells in quick succession. "_Corrumpo! Avada Kedarva! Terrafrendo_!" Harry dodged, weaved and ducked the spells, the hardest of which was the last which caused a sphere of earth to rise out of the ground and attempt to crush him. Several times.

"Protego! Confringo! Expulso! Deprimo!" Harry said, following up with a different variety of spells. Harry had long ago decided that his best chance was not to hit Voldemort with a spell directly (as was the Dark wizard's style) because he had proved to be aggravatingly good at dodging. Instead, Harry used land manipulation and wide range spells - taking out a few Death Eaters at the same time. As he had suspected, Voldemort was able to dodge the first spell (_Confringo_ - which caused whatever it hit to burst into flames), though he was nicked by a flying rock in Harry's next explosion curse and then blown backwards a bit by Deprimo; which caused a great wind to appear.

Their battle continued, their spells continually until they reached epic proportions.

"VENTUS MAXIMUS!" Harry yelled, no longer trying to conceal his intentions by using wordless spells. Then, "PROTEGO!" He managed to throw up a shield just as Voldemort's gigantic magical spear was hurled towards him via wand. The deep black and sickly yellow spear created a very visible crack in Harry's shield before disappearing.

"AVADA KEDARVA!" Voldemort screamed in rage. "SERPENSORTIA LARGO!"

A large, no gigantic, snake flew in a whip-like motion out of Voldemort's wand. It was nearly the size of the basilisk Harry had fought in second year, though Harry could tell by the scales that it was safe to look into it's eyes. The monstrous serpent reared it's head - cobra-like flaps snapping out on the sides of it's neck. It hissed in a long, wavering sound, it's eyes narrowing into yellow slits as it stared at Harry in hate.

"_Attack_." This time, Voldemort spoke softly, and Harry recognized with a jolt that he was not using a spell but speaking to the snake in Parseltongue.

"_Eat. Blood. Kill!_" The snake hissed, starting forward towards Harry with surprising speed. Harry was rooted into his spot, his mind invaded with dozens of hidden memories of times in the Chamber of Secrets, and in the fake Bathilda Bagshot's house. "_KILL!_" With that last proclamation of murderous intent, Harry was snapped out of it.

"_Stop!_" He commanded fiercely in his hissing Parseltongue voice. Voldemort's eyes widened to nearly twice their normal size, his mouth opening into a snarling, angry "O" as he tried to compute the fact that someone who he assumed to be Dumbledore could speak what he considered a Slytherin-only language. In the back ground, Harry heard their audience take in a unanimous breath of surprise and (for most) fear.

"_No! Attack him; taste his blood!_" Voldemort hissed to the snake angrily, tried to urge on the now-confused snake.

"_No!_" Harry contradicted loudly. "_Do not attack! I do not wish to hurt you, ssserpent friend. Leave this place in peace._" The snake looked even more confused at Harry's declaration of want for peace. Harry guessed it wasn't often that the side he was supposed to attack tried to let him life instead of attacking.

"_Ssspeak-_" the snake began haltingly. "_Peace? Attack - no?_" This time, his attention was fully on Harry. Harry nodded largely so the reptile could see.

"_NO!_" Voldemort screeched in anger, abandoning Parseltongue for the common language. "Attack him!" But the snake was ignoring him. It's plate-sized scales clacked against each other as he bent his diamond shaped head down in a show of respect towards Harry.

"_Thank you_." He said simply. "_Leave now?_" He then asked.

"_Yes_." Harry replied, bowing deep. "_May your scales shine, and your venom be potent." _The cobra's eyes widened from their previous slit-like appearance.

"_You as well, ssspeaker_." He paused, trying to find the words to formulate what he was trying to say. "I_... not... forget help. Sssnakes forever in... ssservice. Also you not forget pet._" Harry was baffled. Maybe Voldemort's incessant screaming and profanities had made it so he couldn't hear correctly? Harry side-stepped a deadly looking black curse Voldemort had shot.

"I will remember that." Harry responded with dignity, once again bowing low.

"_Many thanksss,_" the snake replied. "_I leave now_." Harry nodded, and the cobra was just turning around to head into the Forbidden Forest (the students, teachers, and Death Eater had given it a huge berth) when a light blue spell bounced off it's reflective scales. The snake slowly turned it's head toward the culprit, Voldemort. Voldemort stood fuming - seemingly unsure who to be more angry at, Harry or the snake.

"_Avada Kedarva!_" He screamed again in rage, directing his spell towards the gigantic snake. "_Confringo Maximus_!" The snake narrowed it's eyes once again.

"_Do not try to kill me,_" he (or Harry assumed it to be a 'he') warned with a dangerous hiss. "I give... one lassst chance-" but his words were cut off by another spell, orange this time, headed his way. Again, it bounced harmlessly off his side, but this attempt seemed to be the icing on the cake.

The reptile lunged forward in a whirl of motion. Harry actually saw Voldemort's red eyes widen with incredulity and fear before he managed to Apparate away a barely a second before the snake bore down on where he had been. The Light's side supporters in the crowd let out a disappointed sigh.

"_Foolisssh sssnake!_" Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue, addressing the towering being. "_You will die for that!_" The dark wizard sent spell after spell, after dark spell - but he couldn't get any of them to hit. Harry, too, attacked the former snake-master as he internally marveled at the turn of events.

"_Stupefy_!" Harry whispered urgently, pointing his wand directly at Voldemort. "_Sectumsempra! Avada Kedarva!_" But, somehow, Voldemort managed to dodge them all. But all was not lost. The addition of the snake (which Voldemort no longer had enough magical strength to vanish) as well as Harry himself was wearing him out, and fast. He was panting in a strange, rasping/hissing manner. Harry wasn't surprised to see (and hear) that the dark wizard hadn't actually been tired in quite a while.

Harry had the upper hand. Voldemort was so busy defending himself from the snake (which had, to Harry's great delight, also managed to take out some of the Death Eaters on the sidelines) that he barely had enough time and breath to send an offensive spell at Harry. It frustrated Harry to no end. He could tell that he was just a bit away from having the fight in the bag... just one more thing, and it might be over...

He racked his brain for any possible ideas. About 200 yards away, the fighting had re-begun between the defenders and attackers of Hogwarts. Harry didn't know exactly how (it technically wasn't allowed when people were dueling) but suspected it was the fault of Voldemort's lackeys. So they were out of the question as help. In addition, he wouldn't want to bring any of them into the fight where they would most certainly be overpowered by Voldemort. It wouldn't be fair to risk their live like that just to give Harry an opening. He snorted in aggravation as he used the _Protego Horribilis_ charm to protect himself from a nasty looking Jinx of Voldemorts.

The snake was showing no signs of letting up. Voldemort had recently gotten a hit in - a cutting spell on it's inner neck), but instead of halting it as Voldemort had wished, it had just infuriated it even further. It was attacking with new vigor, slashing it's whip-like tail left and right at the nearly overwhelmed wizard.

_The snake_, Harry thought. _There is something important that I'm missing here. What did it say? 'Do not forget your pet?_' What pets did Harry have? The first thought that came to mind was Star - his black and white dog. But he was at home in his own timeline... Then, he realized with a jolt what he'd been talking about. Izlanzi! Where was she, anyways? She usually seemed to know when he needed her, so why hadn't she come to help him? Harry was completely baffled. But surely she couldn't help too much. Sure, she was immortal so he didn't have to worry about her dying, but she was a healer; not an attacker. It made no sense to bring her in.

Harry ducked a Killing Curse, and promptly sent one back, accompanied by an Explosion Spell.

_Plus, I have a feeling that a snake wouldn't recommend a phoenix to me. It doesn't seem their style. What pets do I have that they would approve of?_ Some sort of reptile, of course, or even something that might look good to eat? Harry shivered. He doubted it was the case, but he wasn't just going to call in an edible pet with a 100-foot-tall cobra around. Not a good idea, in his books.

Anyways. Reptiles, then. A snake, ideally. Harry inwardly cursed all snakes for speaking in such a cryptic manner. _Stupid snakes. First the basilisk, then Nagini, and now this stupid cobra! What's next? A-_ But Harry didn't get any further in his thoughts. _Nagini_! He couldn't believe he'd forgotten her. He winced. She didn't seem like the type to be forgiving of forgetting her. But, hopefully, she could help. He would just hope that this wasn't meant to be the time when Voldemort discovered her and made her his favorite snake. Harry shuddered in disgust at the thought.

Not wanting to give away his true intentions, he used a silent spell. Accio Nagini! He thought, pointing he wand over his shoulder towards the Care of Magical Creatures area. The spell shot towards the Forbidden Forest like an arrow; finally disappearing into the trees as it sought out the snake. At first, it seemed as if nothing would happen. The fight continued (curse, dodge, spell, block, snake-attack) for a good minute before Harry's instincts told him to dodge. So dodge he did. And boy was he glad that he'd listened to that (often unreliable) 6th sense.

Barely a half a foot away from his lowered head, the still-petrified snake shot like some sort of serpentine spear towards him. Harry wondered if Nagini was somehow trying to get revenge on him, as impossible as it seemed.

"_Releassse thisss ssspell!_" She hissed - the epitome of anger. "_Let me go!_" Knowing it wasn't the best tactical move to just let her out (Harry didn't doubt that she harbored even more anger than she was showing), Harry resorted to a slightly less gentleman-like ways of getting his way.

"I will. If you attack Voldemort, not me and give me an opening to get to him." He said in English, knowing she could understand it.

"_Why ssshould I?! You didn't come to visssit me, like you sssaid you would!_" Harry looked at her apologetically as he sent a curse in Voldemort's general direction.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Believe me, I was busy." She gave a sniff of disbelief, and closed her eyes.

"_Let me out!_" She hissed again. "_Now!_"

"Only if you fight him!" Harry reiterated angrily.

"_Who do you wisssh me to attack, anywaysss?_" She asked - letting her curiosity get the better of her.

"Voldemort. He is a speaker attacking that snake over there," Harry said, pointing to the fight still going on about twenty yards away. As if on a cue, Voldemort let out a scream out outrage as the snake managed to hit his foot with it's tail.

"_A ssspeaker is fighting a ssssnake?!_" Nagini hissed doubtfully.

"It's true!" Harry said, defending his words. "Will you help me?" She looked him up and down. It would have been threatening (she had evil looking, yellow eyes), but the effect was diminished by the fact that she was in a Full Body Bind, laying on her side on the ground.

"_You will let me out of thisss cursssed ssspell?_" She questioned.

"Yes." Harry agreed immediately. She gave a sigh.

"_Fine. I will fight thisss sssuposssed ssspeaker of yoursss. Now let me out of here!_"

"_Finite Incantatum!_" He said, pointing his wand at the immobile snake. She jumped to life, her green body slithering this way and that for a few seconds. She seemed to be stretching, Harry recognized with a jolt of surprise.

"_Thank you, ssspeaker. You have no idea how exhausssting it can be sssitting in one posssition all day long_." Harry blinked. Somehow, he'd imagined her escape from the spell to be accompanied by something more like, 'Buahaha! I'm free! I can now release my evil upon this world!' Oh, well. Snakes never ceased to surprise him.

Once she had finished extending her long body, she began to covertly sneak over towards the dark wizard in front of them. She slithered through the grass, blending in with her green tones. She moved relatively slowly - it was a sneak attack, after all - not drawing any attention to herself. In fact, if Harry had not known she was there, he wouldn't have seen her at all.

She got closer, and closer - all the while keeping Voldemort none-the-wiser as to her presence. She was fifteen feet away... ten feet... seven feet ... five... then she struck. She lashed out at lightning speed, though she did not bite him. She wrapped her lengthy torso around his feet in a manner of seconds.

Voldemort let out a cry of surprise - a strange sound coming from his mouth. He looked down at the snake, raising his wand to fire a spell at it. But then, Harry saw a flash of fear in his eyes. He looked up, realizing that it was a scheme, and for a second let his true feelings show. His face was angry, yes, but the majority of his expressions were surprising to Harry. Fear. Confusion. Even, Harry thought, a hint of regret. But now, it was too late to save him. He realized what was going to happen the second before it did. His red eyes flashed one last time, and the last thing he saw in this world was the green of an Avada Kedarva before he collapsed into a boneless heap of black fabric and pale white skin.

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**A/N: So. Is it unique? A good fight? I'm not sure if I made it too slow moving for a battle. At least I didn't just have spell upon spell upon curse upon shield. Okay, review! For me? *Commences puppydog pout***

_**A plague on all those who don't review!**_

**I think there's just going to be one more chapter, and perhaps an epilogue left in this story. Review or PM me if you have a request. **

**R**

**E**

**V**

**I**

**E**

**W**

**~AQUAHINA**


	14. Resolution and Return?

Disclaimer: I, Aquahina, do not own Harry Potter. This I do solemnly swear.

This is NOT the last chapter of "Just My Luck." I know I was pretty much planning to end it here, but I just had a little brain-spasm half way through the chapter and realized a good ending that ties up all the loose ends. It'll most likely have about four more chappies. But DON'T expect them to be updated regularly!!!!!

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Chapter Fourteen: Resolution and Return?

Harry stood on the balls of his feet; sure that Voldemort would leap up and attack him, revealing that his death was a hoax. But he didn't. Voldemort stayed motionless in a heap of black and white on the scorched, soaked, and unearthed ground - much to the astonishment of all present.

For a good 20 seconds, nobody said anything. The Death Eaters in the background (even in a moment of supposed victory, Harry kept his eye on the enemy) were staring at their fallen master slack-jawed. A few of them seemed to have realized what this meant for them and had tried to apparate out. A two or three of them were looking disoriented, looking around themselves and down at what they were wearing uncomprehendingly. Harry supposed these were the few that had been under his command only because of the Imperius.

"You can't Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds," Harry could almost hear Hermione saying. Then a thought struck him - Voldemort had apparated on Hogwarts grounds! What was with that? It was suspicious, but Harry dismissed the thought as something to investigate later, and set his concentration back on said Death Eaters

They were now looking nervously for a way out of this predicament... and finding not a single way that didn't include either Harry, a monstrous cobra who had been part of killing their master, or the teachers and students of Hogwarts.

About 20 yards away from the mass of Death Eaters, the group of Light-supporters stood in shock and amazement. They stared at Voldemort's body in disgust, astonishment, and elation; as well as Harry with reverence. _Great_, Harry thought. _Now people from not one, but _two_ time periods will worship me. Just great._

The idea that his greatest enemy was dead, and all that implied - taking the date into account - hadn't really sunk in yet for Harry. He was in a state of shock. He half believed that a second later, Hermione was going to wake him up back in his own time. Voldemort was dead. Voldemort was _dead_. Voldemort was DEAD!!

_Holy shit! Voldemort's dead!_ It had finally sunk in. Harry blinked, his eyes flitting first to the collapsed form of Voldemort, then to the gigantic cobra disappearing into the Forbidden Forest, then to Nagini's satisfied expression, then to the crowd who were now running joyfully towards him, and did what anyone would do right after defeating a Dark Lord.

He fainted.

......o0O0o......

Light. Warmth. Voices. _Is this the afterlife? What happened?_ Harry wondered with no real apprehension. Like most of the wizarding community, he was not a religious person. Sure, when he'd lived with the Dursleys, Vernon, Petunia and Dudley had gone to a Christian Church every Sunday, but they'd always left him out. Not that he'd ever complained. A Dursley-less hour had been glorious in every shape and form.

Plus, they'd always said that the church would collapse if he entered it. Harry didn't doubt that they believed that because he was a wizard - one of the "evil" beings in the Christian religion. If that was so, he would supposedly be going to Hell. Hence his doubtful feelings about the existence an afterlife. He wondered vaguely what would happen if Voldemort went into a church... _Voldemort!_ Voldemort was dead! He felt a sense of deja vu at that revelation, but wasn't altogether surprised. He had realized that Voldemort was dead... three times now in his life, two of them recently.

Well, Voldemort being dead wasn't really strange in of itself - but it was a totally different situation now. First of all, it was 'Dumbledore' who had killed Voldemort, not himself. Secondly, it was freakin' _1977_. And lastly, there were so, so many more (possibly) negative repercussions now. Such as, oh, maybe the death of everyone you hold dear?

Harry strained his muscles, trying to sit up... without success. He was simply too tired. Now that he thought about it, his muscles (and for some reason, the area around the bottom of his ribcage) were aching like crazy.

"Uuuhhhhh..." Harry moaned.

"He's awake!" He heard a woman whisper-yell urgently in the background. They had a slightly familiar voice, but he just couldn't place it. "Madame Pomfrey, he's awake!"

"I heard you the first time, Minerva! I'm coming, all ready!" _Well_, Harry thought dryly, _it was good to see that me and Pomfrey's relationship hadn't changed, at least_. However, Professor McGonagall - Harry now recognized the voice as her's - seemed to have a much different attitude about him. Wait, was he still in Dumbledore's body?

"Perrrffssoorrr MGonnnagllll..." he slurred semi consciously. He could almost feel her worried eyes boring into him.

"Yes, Mr. Jameson?" She asked. _Well, that answers that._ Harry thought, sighing. He was in his own body - not Dumbledore's. So they knew, then, that he had been the one to kill the old snake. Harry let out a sigh of annoyance. It would have been so much simpler if they thought Dumbledore had been the destroyer of Voldemort... But, ah well. No point lingering in the past.

He snorted at the irony of this statement. He'd been 'lingering' in the past for months now.

"Mr. Jameson?" McGonagall said again, sounding more worried than before. "Are you OK?" Harry's throat was dry, but he managed to make an affirmative noise.

"Yaaaaahh." He croaked.

"Good." She said, the crisp professionalism of her voice returning.

"Whhhaaa happennnd?" He said, still barely able to speak. McGonagall was quiet for a second, probably figuring out what he was saying, then started to speak:

"Voldemort is dead." She said, finally allowing some emotion to creep into her voice. Joy.

"I knnowww, I knnnnow..." Harry said, wetting his tongue with spittle as he attempted to speak. "But whattt happeneddd aftterwarddss?"

"Oh!" The professor said, sounding slightly embarrassed - though still none less happy. "Well, for a start, you have been asleep for four days-"

"Four days?!" Harry exclaimed, shock finally forcing himself to snap upwards, opening his eyes. Immediately, the shock of the sudden amount of light pierced his eyes, forcing him to shut them once again. The inside of his eyelids were red, and his corneas burned from the pain. "Aaagh!" He said, trying to raise his hands to his eyes, then failing.

"Mr. Jameson!" McGonagall exclaimed, rushing to his side and forcibly pressing him down onto the mattress. "I wouldn't care whether you were Dumbledore, Grindlewald, or Voldemort himself - _stay in your bed_!" Harry retreated back into his pillows at the angry voice the professor was using.

"Geez, so much for an improvement of attitude towards me after I kill the Dark Lord..." Harry mumbled. McGonagall pretended not to hear him, and continued on her way checking some medicines at his bedside..., which, he now realized, was not the Hospital Wing. "Where am I?" Harry asked confusedly.

"In the special-patient section of the Hospital Wing." Harry opened his mouth to ask, but the professor was already answering. "It's rarely used. You should feel lucky. The only other ones who have ever used this wing have been past Headmasters and a select few teachers. You're only using it now because you created a mob thronging around your bed all the way down the stairs and into the third-floor corridor!" She seemed to realize she was ranting now, and immediately stopped talking.

"So," Harry asked with a heavy heart, "I assume everyone knows it was I, not Dumbledore, who killed Voldie?" By now, Harry had opened his eyes with only minimal pain, and saw McGonagall's regretful and yet amused look.

"Indeed, Mr. Jameson. Everyone knows it was you. The minute you were rendered unconscious, you switched back to your natural form, and the Headmaster into his." She paused for as second, and adopted a less formal expression. "And also, I realize that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead, but I don't doubt that there are many people who wouldn't be happy with that nickname of yours." She snorted, thinking of Harry's nickname. "Voldie..." She muttered, laughing under her breath.

Harry, however, needed more information that just that. He'd been out for four days. _Four days_! Who knew what had happened to the wizarding world since then! But then again, at least he'd avoided (at least temporarily) the rush of the crowds that had enveloped him last time he'd killed Voldemort.

"So what happened?" He questioned, bringing McGonagall out of her internal reverie.

"In short?" She asked, and Harry nodded in agreement. "Well, after you collapsed, everything was in confusion for two more hours or so until everyone switched back into their regular forms-" (Harry couldn't withhold a small grin) "-and realized that most of the people who'd been fighting against the Death Eaters were, in fact, teenagers." She looked at him dryly. "On a personal note, Mr. Jameson, I'm still rather angry at you for keeping me bound while the most historic fight of the century was going on."

Harry winced. He hadn't thought of that... he would have hell to pay when he returned to his own time and had to face the older (and surely a bit more bitter) McGonagall.

"Anyways," she continued, "after all that was more or less resolved the Headmaster was able to gain some semblance of control over the masses and forced them away from your sickbed, and moved you here. Since then, no less than twenty-six wizarding magazines and newspapers have attempted to get in for an interview or picture with you."

Harry sighed. He should have known this would happen, but he'd been hoping that he could just avoid it altogether.

"Messrs. Lupin, Black and Potter have attempted to get in here already twelve separate times via brooms, not one, but_ two_ Invisibility Cloaks, and (most recently) _thestrals_ of all things, to try and see you." Harry snickered. "However, we still have no idea how they know exactly where you were..." Harry gulped, and was grateful, not for the first time, for the Marauder's Map and it's inconspicuity.

"And the... f-fatalities?" Harry asked, stuttering over the word he'd hoped he wouldn't have to use. Professor McGonagall sombered immediately.

"Even in your weakened state - though Poppy doesn't agree with this - I will tell you the truth, Mr. Jameson. There were several fatalities during the fight, though I have no doubt whatsoever that the numbers would have been tripled, no - _quadrupled _without your help." Harry knew she was trying to console him from guilt.

This, surely, had changed the future. It was all over. _Did Remus die_? Harry very distinctly remembered seeing him on the ground bleeding very heavily... and a few professors and students as well.

"Who?" Harry asked, still trying to uphold his dignity even in the face of this disaster. Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, and spoke:

"Professors Larletta Locksley, and Reignetti Invern for teachers-" (Harry was ashamed to admit that he nearly sighed in relief that it wasn't anybody he knew) "-and for students; Muerter Mohlagan, David Abbott, and Alexander Yaxley of Slytherin. Mark Uley and Jerome Parker of Hufflepuff. Harper Shacklebolt, John Bagman, and Kathleen Cattermole of Ravenclaw. And-" She took a shuddering breath, and Harry realized with a sickening lurch of his stomach that she was naming students of her own house here. "Illana Cresswell, Tarby Dippet, Ernie Fortescue and Rose Patil of Gryffindor."

She seemed to crumble to the ground, as Harry was sure he would've done had he not been already laying down. Abbott, Shacklebolt, Cattermole, Dippet, Fortescue, Patil, Cresswell, Bagman... how many lives had he prevented from even beginning? Dirk Cresswell, Florean Forescue, Kingsley, Ludo Bagman, Padma and Parvati Patil... would they be alive when he came back to his real time? And when _would_ he go back?

Harry did some mental math. It was early February now. Hermione and McGonagall had said that they had set the spell to send him back to his home-time at the end of the year... so he still had four whole months to go before he could leave. Of course, Harry had no objection whatsoever to staying with his parents and their friends. It was the press, and his re-acquired fame that worried him. There was sure to be an even larger uproar than there had been when he'd killed Voldie last time, because this was completely unprecedented.

Sure, most people had been skeptical, but this was (or had been) the height of Voldemort's power. His "glory days," so to speak. Then out of the blue comes a seventh year student posing as Dumbledore who somehow manages - via epic battle - to defeat Voldemort. Add the fact that none of the newspapers, or anyone outside the school really, knew of his existence at all - and he was screwed.

_Wait_, Harry thought in a burst of excited revelation. _What if Hermione could come and get me, like she did before_? Harry frowned. How could he 'signal' her to come? He gave a small grunt of annoyance and sadness. Sure, he'd killed Voldemort (in a proper duel this time; not out of luck) but so many were dead, not to mention that he was stuck here. There was no chance or reason for him to continue his seventh year, he knew.

Plus, he hadn't even really been learning anything he didn't know already. _Though_, he noted, _a Memory Charm lesson wouldn't be out of place._

Anyways, to reiterate, he was screwed. What was he going to do for four months? Hide in the Room of Requirements, or the Shrieking Shack? No, that wasn't a good idea at all. Plus, he didn't want to be stuck there for months on end with minimal-to-none sunlight. The Boy-Who-Lived shuddered at the thought. _No flying... _

_I could go on the run,_ he decided, _but that gets to be so boring_! Harry remembered his days during Horcrux-hunting with Hermione and Ron; or more specifically, the days on end when they did absolutely nothing. Then, it hit him. _Horcrux-hunting! _There were still pieces of Voldemort's soul out there, just waiting to be discovered and unleashed upon the world! He had to-

"Ahem. Mr. Jameson?" He heard a questioning, and slightly freaking out voice from beside him and was jolted out of his thoughts. "Apparently, you are in some sort of internal debate - judging from your expressions and various snorts and sighs - but I must enquire to as what you plan to do now. Professor Dumbledore has told me to pass along that he approves your early graduation from Hogwarts in recognition of your service to humanity." She spoke in a slight monotone, though she seemed curious as to what he was thinking.

"Really? I didn't know you could graduate early." This was new for Harry. He'd never heard of anyone graduating early, and Hermione'd never mentioned anything of the sort to him. Then, he realized his mistake and corrected it quickly: "Not that I'm against it, or anything."

"That's because it's never been done before. Usually, no matter the level of wizarding, we like to keep children in the school for the full seven years - if only to forge bonds with their peers. However, Professor Dumbledore seems to think that, on account of your newly-acquired fame, you would like to be alone for a while. You have, after all, most certainly proved that you are worthy of graduating." Harry nodded. He wasn't the kind of person to boast about his accomplishments, but it was pretty obvious that he no longer needed to continue his magical schooling.

"Sounds good to me." Perfect. Now he actually had formally approved permission to begin a Horcrux-hunt! _Wow, who would've thought..._? "However, I do have a request." McGonagall stiffened. "I was wondering if it were possible-" Harry tried to figure out a delicate way to word this, and failed miserably. "-to, uh, have James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Lily Evans graduate early with me."

Silence.

Silence.

Eye-twitching.

Slight sigh.

Silence.

Staring.

"I will ask the Headmaster." Professor McGonagall replied formally. "However, it would be totally unprecedented for that to happen. You are one case, and they are another. You did kill Voldemort, Mr. Jameson. I know you may not like it, but that does give you quite a bit of status - even higher that the Headmaster himself." Harry nodded. He was aware of this. He hadn't really expected any other reply.

"So... you'll ask for me?"

"Actually, I think it would be best explained - your reasons, that is - if you were to ask him yourself. I will tell him you wish to speak with him. He should be here in about five minutes." Harry nodded accent, noting with sadness the far more formal tone of their conversation now that it had switched to his 'fame.'

"Thank you, Professor." Harry said truthfully. She really was an amazing person. She smiled softly, relaxing from her normally stiff posture.

"No, thank _you_, Harry." Harry noted detachedly that this was the first time she'd ever call him by his first name in this time period. She left hurriedly, and Harry most likely would have stayed there stewing in his thoughts if it weren't for the sudden transformation on the end of his bed.

From where there had appeared to be nothing, Izlanzi grew like a flower of feathers.

_Harry!_ She called to him, sounding worried and confused. _I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you-_ But Harry cut her off.

_Izlanzi._ He thought sternly. _It wasn't your fault you were away; though I would like to know where you were._ She ducked her head, seemingly embarassed.

_Well, _she began, managing to seem embarrassed even through thought, _You see... I was meeting with an - ehm - friend. _

_A friend? _Harry asked, baffled. _I didn't know you had any phoenix friends. _The feathers around her cheeks fluffed in a bird-blush.

_He's not a phoenix... I actually met with him in cat form. _

_Him? _Harry questioned, a shit-eating smile growing on his face as he realized where this was going. _Izlanzi, were you on a... date? _If she had been human, her entire face would've been tomato-red.

_Y-yes_? She said hesitantly. Harry looked at her in a rather dead pan way.

"So, while I was battling an evil dark lord. In the past. By myself. For nearly an hour on end. In the body of an old, inflexible man - all the while trying to keep up the guise of said old-man... you were on a date with a cat?" She morphed ashamedly into a small, grey mouse and curled up into a ball. He said this out loud, forgetting that she could hear him when he was just thinking.

_Well, when you put it that way-_ she began to say, but she was cut off by a rasping chuckle from the doorway of the Infirmary room.

"Hahahaha!" the man laughed, his piercingly azure eyes barely visible from behind both half-moon glasses and crinkled eyes. "A date, you say?" Dumbledore asked, finally stopping laughing. "With a cat, of all things? It wouldn't happen to be with our dear Professor McGonagall, would it?" Izlanzi stiffened up at the suggestion, turning her head from him in a huff of annoyance.

_No, of course not! I can easily tell the difference between an animagus and a real cat - not to mention that I have seen her animagus form, and it is very distinctly her. _Dumbledore, however, couldn't hear her, and continued laughing heartily at Izlanzi's whereabouts during the fight. Harry joined in after a couple of seconds, finally giving in - despite the glares Izlanzi was sending his way.

Then, all of a sudden, Dumbledore sobered. "So. Harry - you wanted to talk with me, correct? And I as well must confess that I have numerous questions for you - some of them correlating to your recent description of me as an old man" Harry nodded, stopping his laughter despite Dumbledore's jibe about his age. He'd known this was coming. The moment where he'd have to tell Dumbledore where he _really_ came from. He'd already gone over the options in his head:

_Option 1_: Tell the truth, the full truth, and nothing but the truth. Possibly harmful to the future, but he'd already killed Voldemort. How much different could the future get? On another pro, it would be nice to confide in someone.

_Option 2_: Lie, and most likely have the answer sucked (painfully) out of his head via Occlumency. Dumbledore was a good, honest wizard - but his was an extreme circumstance, and Harry didn't doubt that he would use extreme measures if forced to.

_Option 3_: Tell a partial truth. This was a good option, no doubt, but the trouble was that Dumbledore was far too good at reading people for his own good. He'd probably figure out that Harry was lying no problem. '

Harry took in a deep breath, and initiated Option one.

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Well? Good? Bad? I tried not to leave on TOO much of a cliffie, as is my habit. (Unfortunately for you guys.) In case you didn't read the beginning author's note - I know I rarely do - you should know that though I said earlier I was ending this in just a chappie or two, I have decided to let it go on longer to tie up a few loose ends and such.

Hope you like it! Also, I'm looking for a beta. Let me reiterate:

_**I'M LOOKING FOR A BETA!!!!!!!!!!!! **_

Okay, now even those who don't read these notes should see that... If you're interested in seeing my updates earlier as well as correcting my various mistakes, contact me!!!

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**~AQUAHINA**


	15. Explanations and Expeditions

Okay, sorry for the fairly long break. I'm in a play, as well as school, as well as about a zillion other things. But I'm not going to bore you with excuses, especially when most people just skip the author's notes and go straight to the update.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter no me pertence, mas sinembargo el desarrollo de esta historia si.

Also, I'd like to thank my new, amazing Beta-reader, Kirby77DP77 THANK YOU!!!

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Chapter Fifteen: Explanations and Expeditions

Harry talked to Dumbledore for hours on end without break. It was different than it had been with James, Sirius, and Remus because (first of all) he didn't have to explain the definition of "Horcruxes," or of the history of Tom Riddle and many other things; as well as him being a much better and more believing listener.

However, this was not insulting his friends, parent or godfather at all. Dumbledore had been pretty much ready to accept any explanation for why a seventh-year student supposedly in his teenage years managed to win against the darkest and most feared wizard of all time. He, to be put simply, didn't have room to be skeptical.

In addition, Harry was able to tell him things he'd skipped when telling the Marauders. The standouts among these things he'd skipped over were A) the details of Sirius's death, and exactly how much heartbreak it had put him through, and B) the extent of pain and hardship he'd gone through in quest for the Horcruxes. Throughout Harry's confessions, Dumbledore remained silent and straight faced, speaking only once or twice to ask questions. Finally, Harry finished his story at where he'd been sent back in time. Dumbledore, of course, knew the rest.

"Hmmm." Dumbledore said, his face looking aged and tired. He leaned back into his chair, eyes wandering for a second towards the ceiling as if asking it for advice. It was the most human Harry had even seen the man. "Interesting."

"... Sir?" Harry asked nervously, still not 100% sure that the Headmaster wouldn't suddenly tie him up and send him to the loony bin. Luckily, that wasn't what Dumbledore seemed to have in mind.

"Harry, I know that I cannot be completely justified in asking you this question. In fact, this conversation has been the most interesting and enlightening conversation that I have had in years." Harry blushed a little bit at that. "But I have to ask. Is it really a good idea to tell me this?" Harry's stomach dropped. He'd been hoping Dumbledore could tell him that.

"I... I don't k-know, sir," Harry said, eyes boring his bedpost. "I hope so."

Dumbledore nodded sagely as he said, "I hope so too, dear boy." At this, Harry smiled faintly.

"Sir-"

"Please call me Albus, would you, Harry? If what you are saying is true, you have by far earned that privilege."

"Albus, then..." Harry faltered. Not only was it strange to call the Headmaster by his first name, but it was a strange conversation altogether. How could he ask this? There were so many things riding on what he asked, and ultimately, decided to do. He gulped in a breath, and decided to ask straight out: "What should I do?" It was a loaded question, they both knew it. Dumbledore sat down carefully on the end of Harry's sickbed, perching precariously so as not to disturb him.

"I don't think anyone can decide that other than you, Harry." Harry frowned, and opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore wasn't done. "As I'm sure you know, your decision here is extremely important, as is mine deciding whether or not to allow James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily to join you." The wizened man stared directly into Harry's eyes - green meeting blue. "Harry, I am no longer your professor as of now." His words were harsh, and Harry unconsciously drew back, hurt.

"What? But Profes- I mean, Albus-"

"No Harry. Listen." His words were firm and forceful. "I am a person you may come to advice to, to talk with. I've even married several people. But I am no longer a person to make decisions for you. The only person who you can wholly trust and depend on is you. If I tell you what to do here, you will use me as a crutch. This is not something you can do, believe me. I've made that mistake enough times."

Harry stared wordlessly at the wizard before him. He was trying to take a sledgehammer to the pedestal Harry had placed him on, but only succeeding on building it higher. The fact that the old wizard would go so far as to tell him not to believe him... was amazing to Harry, and even he realized the danger in that. Dumbledore was right - at this point, he simply couldn't allow someone pull his metaphorical strings. Like it or not, he was now the Leader of the Light. Vanquisher of Voldemort. _Again. _

There was a long silence, though it was not uncomfortable. The two men searched each other's eyes (without Occlumency, Harry was pleased to note) trying to find the answers each of them desperately desired, yet knew they couldn't have. They stayed there for a good five minutes, just thinking. Finally, Harry shattered the silence.

"Thank you." He said shortly, backing his two words with a lot of meaning. Dumbledore had just removed what could have been a huge obstacle in his way.

Dumbledore didn't answer, choosing only to smile serenely. Harry relaxed into his bed, relieving his neck muscles and staring upwards. He simply lay there in peace, allowing himself to rest. If he was going to do what he thought he was, he was going to need this rest. Then he started. _That reminds me..._

"Professor?" He asked, then (before Dumbledore could correct him) "-Albus, I mean, have you made a decision on whether or not you'll let James, Sirius, Remus and Lily to come out of school with me?" Again, the heavily bearded wizard smiled, eyes crinkling merrily.

"Indeed, I have, Mr. Potter. Or Jameson?"

"We may as well go with Potter," Harry said resignedly.

"Mr. Potter, then, like I said, I have decided," As Dumbledore spoke, Harry leaned forward in anticipation.

"I will allow Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, and Mr. Lupin to accompany you-" Harry let out an internal cry of victory, but it was almost immediately cut short. _There's something missing..._ "-however, I cannot allow Miss. Evans to go." Harry's stomach dropped, joy forgotten.

"Why not?!" He exclaimed loudly. "But if Sirius and James and Remus are coming, why can't Lily?" Dumbledore shook his head sadly, but decidedly.

"I am deeply sorry, Harry. I wish I could allow her to go. Mssrs. Potter, Black and Lupin are rated top of their class-"

"But Lily-"

"-_and_ they contributed to the recent Battle of Hogwarts." And there was the key point. Dumbledore could squeeze three students an early graduation, passing it off as thanks for them fighting for Hogwarts and for the Light. But another fourth student who, however smart, chose to stay within the walls of the castle? Not a chance.

"... I see." Harry replied shortly, knowing it was pointless to argue any further. "Should I tell them, or will you?"

"I believe I will leave that to you, Mr. Potter." They had returned to formalities. "However," now his face turned stern, "-remember, it is ultimately their decision whether or not they want to accompany you. If they decide to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of their seventh year, that is for them to decide and them _alone_. Understood?" Harry nodded seriously. This, he knew, was fair enough - though he would have preferred if if he had given Lily the choice too. However, he doubted any of them would decide to stay for the rest of the year when they could be on a "quest."

"I'll tell them." Dumbledore's face reverted back to it's normal Headmaster-ly expression.

"Excellent. Now, before I leave, do you need anything for your journey? Your belongings have already been brought here," he gestured towards the corner, where Harry was surprised to see his trunk, with his broom propped up against the wall next to it. "-but I would be happy to supply you with anything else you might need... Books, extra wands, muggle items, maps - you name it." Harry thought for a second, choosing to ignore how much Dumbledore (in that moment) had sounded like a salesman.

"Hmmm..." Then his eyes lit up. "Actually, professor, I would like a book on how to do a Memory Charm, and some ingredients..." Harry wandlessly summoned a piece of parchment and a quill and began to hastily scribble apothecary items down pell mell. When he showed no sign of stopping after a good twenty seconds, Dumbledore stood and walked over to stand behind Harry, looking at what he was writing down.

"These are not for any potion I know... Monkswood roots? Acromantula hair? Are you sure those are right? When added, they have been known to have rather disastrous results-"

"It's fine," Harry consoled, finishing his list with a flourish of his quill. "The potion I plant to make is one invented in the future." Dumbledore looked ready to argue over whether or not Harry should make it, but Harry spoke. "It's very important." He shut his mouth, looking curious but refraining from questioning him on why it was needed.

"Will that be all, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, gathering his robes and preparing to leave.

"Well..." Harry began to ask haltingly.

"Yes?" The wizened man answered questioningly.

"Could I have... a lemon drop, by chance?" Harry smiled sheepishly, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly.

"Of course! Now where did I put them... Ahh!" He dug into his front robes pocket for a second, and then retrieved a medium-sized, purple and gold drawstring bag. "Here, my boy, have a handful. I'd dare say you've earned them." Harry snorted. Trust Dumbledore to give him lemon drops as a reward for killing Voldemort. _Not that I'm complaining_.

"Thanks, professor."

"Albus!" The Headmaster corrected jovially. "And you'd best remember it! Oh, now while I'm still on the subject, here's your diploma... though I don't doubt you already have one back in your real time." Harry didn't bother to correct him. It was one of his biggest annoyances that he lacked a Hogwarts diploma despite everything he'd been through. One last jab from Malfoy and the school governors, Ron liked to say. Harry caught the gently tossed roll of fancy parchment in his left hand and unrolled it in his lap.

_**Congratulations, **__**Mr. Harry J. Potter**__**, for completing your Magical Education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

_**CLASS OF 1977 **_

_**Signed, **_

_**Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; **_

_**Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump **_

_**of the International Confederacy of Wizards, **_

_**Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Grand Sorcerer**_

Harry noticed with hilarity that Dumbledore's full name and titles took up more room than the actual graduation announcement. He also noted that he was officially a member of the "Class of 1977." That would certainly take some explaining to house guests who didn't read the paper.

"Thank you, Alb-" but he stopped. The Headmaster was gone, having slipped silently out of the room while Harry was reading his diploma. Harry smiled. It was just like the Headmaster.

After examining the document for a good couple of minutes, feeling very satisfied, he carefully rolled it up into the red ribbon it had been wrapped in, and set it down on his bedside table. _Now what_? He wondered, looking around his room. _What to do... what to do..._ Finally, after a few minutes of internal deliberation, he had an idea. Gathering his magic, he sent out a spell in the direction of his trunk. _Accio Books!_ He thought. Said books zoomed over to him and landed none-too-gently on his stomach, exerting an indignant "Oohf!" from him.

He looked at the book titles, popping a lemon drop into him mouth as he did so. He was unsure of which one he wanted to read. He hadn't really had time to delve into them since he'd gotten here - he was much more busy than he thought he'd be... Finally, he decided to keep 3,000 Useful Charms You Didn't Know About, You and Your Animagus, and 5,001 Make It Yourself Poisons; levitating the rest back to his trunk. After wriggling into a comfortable spot in his covers, he began to read _3,000 Useful Charms You Didn't Know About_, putting the other two on the table next to his diploma.

Time flew, surprisingly. Harry was already halfway through his book on Charms (which was a rather lengthy volume) when Madame Pomfrey returned to his room. Harry didn't doubt she was busy in the main Infirmary with people injured in the fight, and he was glad for the distraction. She had a bad habit of hovering when he was hurt.

"Good to see you're awake and doing things, Mr. Potter." She said briskly, walking over to his bed and throwing off the covers - leaving him in only a pair of Gryffindor pajamas.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, but she didn't make any reply.

"Do you have any pain?" He shook his head. "Aching bones? Dizziness? Nausea?" Again, Harry shook his head. "Confusion or loss of memory about recent events?" Harry thought back, and was quickly able to shake his head again. "Excellent! You seem to be in fairly good shape. In fact, the only area where you are really hurt is your Magical Core. Does your lower stomach ache, by any chance?"

"Uhh... yeah," Harry replied, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the uncomfortable feeling.

"That is your_ Navitas Potior_, or Magical Core. You used so much magic fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that it was nearly depleted. Ten more minutes of fighting, and you would have died from it." She said this all very factually, and Harry wondered if Hermione knew what a 'Navitas Potior' was. It seemed like something she would find interesting. Harry smiled softly at the memory of his wife. For the most part, he'd been able to hold back missing her, but suddenly he felt the pang of separation as if someone had decided to stab his heart with it. Madame Pomfrey didn't seem to notice his plight, however.

"-Mr. Potter?" Harry started.

"Eh?" He said confusedly. Pomfrey sighed in exasperation.

"I was asking you if the pain from your Magical Core has depleted since you've been conscious." Harry thought about it for a second, then said:

"Yeah, it has." She nodded in confirmation, waving her wand and causing an eagle-feather quill to take notes on a clipboard behind her. She went on to question him about how much the pain had decreased, as well as how bad the original pain was, when it started hurting, and (judging by how fast it had lessened) when he thought it would be gone. Needless to say, he had fudged it a little bit, making it sound better than it was, hoping to be able to be released from his confines earlier. Finally, once she was done poking, prodding, and muttering spells that lit Harry's body up different colors and conjured charts, she left the room to return to the main area of the Infirmary.

Harry let out a sigh he hadn't known he was holding in. _That woman is even more persistent now that she's younger, _he thought with a slight shudder. Harry returned to reading his book.

Hours passed with almost no change. The items he had requested from Dumbledore (a book on Memory Charms, and the potions ingredients) had been delivered by a very star-struck student whom had looked torn between asking Harry for an autograph, and high-tailing it out of the room. Harry had done his best to look slightly menacing, and the boy had run out.

It had taken all of five or so minutes for Harry to double-check that he had all the ingredients he'd need for what he was planning on making. He had learned to make this potion a few months after he'd defeated Voldemort (a proposal of Hermione's, though they hadn't yet been together at that time) and as one of the few people who knew how to brew it properly, he had been asked by various departments of the Ministry to brew it several times. He even enjoyed making it, to his great surprise and disbelief. Harry snorted. _I'm sure Snape is rolling in his grave at the thought of me actually _enjoying_ Potions._

To be blunt, Harry was completely and utterly bored.

He had finished the Charms book, and he was now absently flipping through the pages of 'You and Your Animagus.' However, he hadn't been able to find anything so far on how your animagus was chosen for you. However, he had found a rather interesting part on multiple-animaguses... or rather the theory of them. Nobody was able to prove that it was possible to have more than one animagus form, though there was speculation that Merlin had two forms. It was a strange idea that he had secured a theory.

Finally, Harry couldn't take it any more. "AARRGGGHHHH!!!" He yelled in aggravation, tossing his books back over towards his trunk. He'd been stuck there for hours (_hours!_) with only Madame Pomfrey to visit, and nobody even to talk to. Even Izlanzi hadn't visited since she'd left with Dumbledore after he'd come to hear Harry's story. On his previous visits here when he'd gotten hurt, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, or even Ginny had visited him. _But now? Nobody. It's_- But Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by a voice near the doorway.

"I take it from your expression that that was a scream of annoyance, not pain?" Madame Pomfrey asked in a venomous tone.

"Uhh, yeah, it was." Harry's confession was heavily glared at.

"It's lucky you defeated Voldemort, Mr. Jameso- I mean, Potter, or else I would just tell your friends to leave."

"What?!" _I have visitors?_

"Yes. James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are outside your door."

Harry's heart lifted. _Finally, some company! _He felt sad in a detached manner that his mother wasn't there, but he supposed it would be easier to explain his quest "invitation" to them if she wasn't there. He was still sad and annoyed that she couldn't come, though he understood the reasons why it had to be so.

"... can they come in?" Harry asked hopefully. She pursed her lips, obviously wishing she could deny him as some sort of punishment for yelling. Fortunately, she decided against it and opened the door.

"HARRY!" All three of the Marauders yelled in synchronization as the door opened. They ran in, tumbling over each other in their haste. Harry laughed at where they ended up (on the ground in a heap). Normally, they probably would have made some sort of retort, but they ignored Harry's jibe. Remus, James and Sirius scrambled up hastily, looking at Harry with relief and no small amount of relevance. _Great. They're star-struck,_ Harry thought in an annoyed manner. _Now, how should I get them out of this..._ However, he didn't have time to figure it out. All three started talking at once:

"Wow!"

"I still can't believe-"

"-Voldemort! Haha, it's so-"

"-I'm still-"

"-amazing! How did you-"

"QUIET!" Harry yelled. What he wouldn't have done for Ron and Hermione right now... they would have been better at knowing what Harry would want to hear... but he couldn't think of that. They weren't here right now, and it was unfair to rate James, Sirius, and Remus when he'd known them for just a few months adverse to Ron and Hermione's years. "Yes, I know I defeated Voldemort. I don't need a play-by-play." They looked a bit embarrassed now, shuffling their feet uncomfortably.

"Sorry, Harry..." Remus said, the first to apologize.

"It's fine." Harry said shortly, still a bit miffed. He decided it was time to turn to a lighter subject. "So. You guys finally got in here, huh? I'm disappointed that you did it the easy way." Sirius made a loud exclamation.

"The _easy_ way?" _Perfect. Sirius at least has forgotten my little outburst already. _"Do you have any idea how hard it is to ride a Thestral when you can't see them??"

"Well, no, but Ron, Neville and Hermione seemed to get by just fine." This comment, however teasing, seemed to sting James.

"Well _you've_ never done it!" He retorted, feigning hurt.

......o0O0o......

The Marauders (whom, Harry reminded himself happily, he was now apart of) argued for nearly an hour on similar topics, discussing almost everything but what was going to happen next. Harry finally broke down and told them a dueler's perspective of his fight with Voldemort (though for the sake of Snape's health, he didn't teach them any of the spells he used) to their delight. However, they had seemed to have learned their lesson about being overly exuberant about Harry's accomplishments after his first outburst, which he'd apologized for.

Finally, they reached the subject Harry was sure they'd been allowed in here to discuss in the first place. He took it slowly, re-explaining Horcruxes a bit and expanding on the subject much more than he had before. Carefully, he told them about his revelation that (in all likelihood) Voldemort had already created multiple Horcruxes, though not all seven, and what he would need to do - carefully keeping the bit about them being able to help for the end.

"-so I have to ask you guys a very important question," He said, almost ready to make his preposition for leaving Hogwarts.

"Yeah?" James said, acting as the spokesperson for his fellow Marauders.

"I've run this by Albus-" they looked incredulous at his use of the Headmaster's first name, but made no comment, "-and he says it's OK if you three can come along with me to look for Horcruxes." Their faces, which at first had been a strange mixture of determination and confusion, were now scared, excited, and something else he couldn't name. "Would you three be willing to come with me?"

There was a long silence, stretching for what seemed to Harry like hours, as they contemplated. Or rather, as they looked confused.

"You want us to come with you? Why not, I dunno..." James floundered for an example. "-someone like that Alastor Moody fellow, or a couple of Aurors?" Harry shook his head.

"No, first of all, I don't even know many Aurors. And what's more, I trust you guys with my life. Aurors are great, don't get me wrong, but I'd much rather have you three beside me in a fight than them." Despite trying to hide it, the three all looked touched at Harry's rather sentimental explanation. "Plus, you guys already know my whole time traveling thing, so I won't have to explain it again."

Slowly, all three nodded in accent. "I guess that makes sense..." Remus said slowly. He straightened. "Well, _I_ for one will go with you, damned be my parents reactions!" Sirius and James looked a bit surprised at Remus agreeing to forsake half of his last year, but then they nodded as well.

"I'll go," James said, trying to seem serious despite his excited eyes.

"Hell yeah! Me too!" Sirius pumped his fist into the air as he spoke. Harry's heart unclenched the knot it had previously been in as he realized that his three friends would indeed be coming. However, all was not yet well and ready. There was still a rather large obstacle to face-

"Wait, Harry, what about Lily?" Harry winced. _There it is.._.

"James," Harry began slowly. "I asked Albus and he said only you three can come, not Lily." James looked angry.

"Why the hell not?" He yelled, as if it was Harry's fault. "She's just as good, if not better, than us at dueling, and-"

"James, that's not the point. I want her to go probably just as much as you do, but the only reason I was able to get Dumbledore's permission for you three to go was because you proved yourself fighting Death Eaters when Voldemort attacked. Albus knows that she is a good witch, believe me, and she helped by calming the students - but it's not the same." James's eyebrows were furrowed tensely; his lips pressed together into a hard, thin line.

"Then I'm not coming."

"What?!" This time, Sirius, Remus and Harry yelled together.

"She just agreed to go out with me!" This was news to Harry, though excellent news, no doubt. "I won't lose her, no matter how much I want to go." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but then remembered his promise to Albus. Harry wondered belatedly if the Headmaster had predicted this outcome. Knowing him, probably. No matter how much Harry wanted to just drag him along, it was James's choice, and his alone; no matter how much Harry wished he would decide otherwise.

"Fine." Harry said heavily. Remus and Sirius looked at him pleadingly. It was a show of how they considered Harry the leader of their expedition that they didn't protest more.

"Are... are you sure, James?" Sirius finally asked haltingly, his eyes begging. "I mean... you could still go on the mission, and get the girl, right?" He laughed unhumorously, as if he did it only to fill the silence. His was a weak argument, and he knew it. However, Sirius wasn't ready to give up yet. He plowed through. "C'mon, mate... we can leave school early! No more classes!" James simply shook his head sadly.

Harry blinked tears out of his eyes. _It's not fair..._

And it wasn't, to Harry at least. For a few minutes, he'd been able to savor the idea that he would be able to _truly_ spend time with his father (outside of school) for the first time ever. Now, his hopes were dashed. But all the same, he was (strangely) proud of his father for sticking by his mother. In a strange, warped way, he felt proud for him like a father would for his son. However, Harry supposed he was technically a few years older than James... but he was getting off track.

Harry tried to hide the stray tears seeping out of his eyes by rubbing them with the back of his fist. However, all the rest of the gathered boys seemed to be doing the same.

"I'll- I'll miss you three." James said wetly, finally giving up on hiding his tears. "Don't any of you get hurt on me, o-okay? The Marauders have to stay whole." It was left unsaid that Peter Pettigrew was no longer one of the Marauders. He was in no way loyal to them, or even to Gryffindor any more.

"'Course, mate," Remus said, patting James's shoulder awkwardly. "We'll finish it up s-soon and come back to be your b-best men at your and Lily's wedding." Despite it all, James blushed and hit Remus jokingly on his forearm.

"Yeah," Sirius said, backing Remus up. He placed one of his hands on James's shoulder, and his other on Remus's back; uniting all four of the Marauders into a connected line of people. "We'll destroy the Horcruxes in time to see your and Lily's graduation."

There was a sad, but accepting silence. This was unprecedented, Harry knew, for them at least. It had been unspoken that they would stay as close as they were now when graduated, and to be separated for months as they now would be... would be terrible. Perhaps it would be even worse than Harry's pain at the lack of Hermione and Ron.

Barely fifteen minutes ago, all three of them had crashed into Harry's sick-room with no negative premonitions (as far as he knew), and now everything had changed. It had happened a million times to Harry, but every time his life took such a drastic turn such as it was now it seemed new and unusual. _What now?_ He thought, trying to ignore his oncoming depression. _Remus, Sirius and I should be leaving as soon as I can recover and they can pack. I, for one, don't intend to hang out here for long with all these reporters around._

"We're leaving soon." Harry proclaimed suddenly, breaking the silence with stiff words. "We can't afford to stay for much longer. We'll wait until I've recovered, then wait a day." Sirius and Remus nodded, still in a daze. James looked a bit hurt, but determined not to back down and decide to join them.

"I'll... miss you guys," he said softly. "What am I going to do without all of you to plan pranks with?"

"Actually act like Head Boy and finish your homework ahead of time?" Remus suggested. A second passed. Then another. Then suddenly, all the remaining ice broke in one shattering, crazy smash. All four burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Harry's magic-core-spot (he'd forgotten exactly what it was called) was aching more from his stomach's spasm-like motions, but he ignored it.

He would enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

A/N: **Thanks, all of you, for sticking with me through this. I'll admit I'm excited that my story is going beyond the usual ending of "Voldemort dies," but also a bit personally stressed that I have NO. FRIGGIN. IDEA. WHEN. THIS. IS. GOING. TO. END. Plus, Mid-Winter break is ending soon... :( :( :(**

**Thanks again to Kirby77DP77!!! **

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**~AQUAHINA**


	16. Venom

Chapter Sixteen: Venom

The following two days were a somber affair. Sirius and Remus had not accepted that James would not be coming on what they had dubbed "the most awesome-est quest ever," and though they had not tried directly in front of Harry, he suspected they had been talking outside of his sick room. Harry didn't blame them. If Ron or Hermione had declined coming on his Horcrux search... He shuddered even to think of it.

Also, a secret part of him (and it was a not-so-small part at that) wanted Remus and Sirius to convince James to go. He would be the first to agree that James's reasons for staying were admirable and, yes, he did in fact want to be born, but he still wished selfishly that James would come with them. The Marauders weren't whole without him. James, Sirius and Remus were still trying to get over the betrayal of Peter, and though they put up a strong front, Harry could tell that they were deeply saddened at the loss of their friend.

However, though it was small in comparison to the loss of James, there was one beacon of light, or two, rather. Firstly, Harry was almost fully healed. He could walk, though it wasn't worth it for the amount of exhaustion it brought him. Madame Pomfrey had decided (though she looked as if she would like to keep him longer) that he would be ready to leave the day after tomorrow. Secondly, Dumbledore had been far more cooperative than Harry had originally anticipated. The man was like a grandfather to him, but he was entirely too protective over his students, and a bit manipulative to boot.

Harry had expected at least an _encouragement_ to leave this to the Aurors. He suspected it had something to do with him seeing how well he dueled in person.

The elderly Headmaster had been invaluable lately. Not only had he thought the Memory Charm to Harry, Sirius and Remus, but he'd given Harry a few unexpected gifts.

_FLASHBACK_

_"A cell phone?" Harry said incredulously, staring at the slim device the Headmaster had handed him. "It is an honest-to-god cell phone?" _

_Dumbledore was not perturbed by Harry's doubtful attitude, and simply nodded in agreement_

_"I find they are surprisingly useful. Not to mention I have added a few additions myself," Dumbledore gave a small, proud smile as he spoke. Harry noted this with excitement, as Dumbledore was not a vain man. If he was proud of it, it _had_ to be good._

_"So... what does it do?" Harry asked._

_"Well, of course it works as a normal cellular telephone," Harry snorted at Dumbledore's language, "-but it you press the numbers "4-2-7-7-9" in succession, the screen will enlarge into a magical compartment capable of holding about 30 pounds worth of items." Harry was happy, though he had to admit, a tiny bit disappointed. There were several spells Harry knew how to cast that would do the same._

_"-however, that is not what makes it special." Dumbledore continued. Harry perked up. "Not only is it impervious to all detection spells, but no one other than yourself, Mr. Black, and Mr. Lupin is capable of opening it," _

_Dumbledore looked slightly like a little boy on Christmas day as he explained the gadget. Harry had a feeling he looked similarly._

_"Anything else?" Harry asked eagerly, staring at the cell phone as if hoping it would grow into a Hippogriff and fly away._

_"Yes," Dumbledore said, still excited. "The antenna-" he pulled out antenna from where it had been hidden in the slot, "-is a form of magic conductor. Observe." He pointed the cell phone, antenna pointing forward, towards a pen on Harry's bedside table. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" He recited. After a small jerking motion, the pen levitated about a foot off the table. Dumbledore lowered the cell phone and the pen fell back into place with a clatter._

_Harry had the distinct feeling that if he were to (for some reason) receive gadgets from the MI6 or the CIA, it would be much like this._

_"Cool!" Harry exclaimed. "But I thought only wands could channel magical energy?" Dumbledore shook his head at Harry's words._

_"That is a common misconception. You, of course, know some wand less magic. This process is slightly similar to that. This device will work as a wand, albeit less smoothly and perhaps requiring slightly more magical energy." Dumbledore said. Harry nodded slowly in comprehension._

_"Does the antenna have a core, like a wand does?" He asked curiously. Dumbledore nodded, pleased at Harry's train of thought._

_"Indeed!" He said, once again gleeful. "However, this is a core not used before as far as I know. I heated and mixed thestral blood, Basilisk venom, unicorn hair, and a single phoenix feather. It will be a very potent combination."_

_Harry refrained from asking more questions about the properties of the antenna/wand/thing. He had a feeling that it would take only a small push to get Dumbledore to go into full professor-mode and explain every single thing. Harry tried not to shudder. He wasn't complete pants at potions (any more, at least,) but that didn't mean it still was his least favorite subject. The Headmaster looked a tiny bit put out at Harry's lack of questions. However, he didn't continue._

_"Thanks a lot, Professor," Harry said gratefully._

_"Again, call me Albus, Harry," Dumbledore replied warmly. Harry sighed._

_"Fine, Albus then. Is there anything else you wanted to give me?" He asked hopefully. Dumbledore's face lit up at Harry's words._

_"Why, yes! Thank you for reminding me!" He whipped his wand in small, circular motion, and a slim, silver laptop appeared in front of him._

_"Cool!" Harry said again, immediately grabbing the Mac Book Pro from Dumbledore's hands. Dudley had gotten one of these for his 15th birthday and Harry had always rather envied him for that. It gave him a feeling of satisfaction to know that he had something the Dursleys would call valuable in the Muggle world. However, something was wrong. Oh, yeah, it wasn't supposed to be invented for about 18 years. However, Harry started with a different question. "What does it do?"_

_"Nothing out of the ordinary, actually, except the fact that it has never-ending battery and has um... 'Internet service,' I believe you told me it was called, everywhere." Dumbledore said cheerily. "However, you really should try the 'Photobooth' application - it's quite amazing! I designed it myself out of memories you gave to me of your time with the Dursleys."_

_END FLASHBACK_

True to his word, the laptop did nothing as amazing as the cell phone had. But despite that, Harry had been completely absorbed with the device since he'd been given it. _It's amazing how much Wizards underestimate the power of Muggles_, he thought. _Just having this information on this thing would have helped Hermione, Ron and I immensely on our original Horcrux-hunt._

He was currently surfing the St. Mary's Orphanage website. Of course, being 1978, Internet didn't yet exist. However, Dumbledore had managed to channel Harry's memories of Internet (as well as Dudley's laptop) and recreate them. _He really is the most talented wizard ever,_ Harry reminisced as he clicked an icon about how the Adoption system worked. Harry doubted it would help at all, but it would be useful nonetheless.

Over the next three hours, Harry continued to surf the web - looking for references to Voldemort, or anything that could help them in their quest. He had narrowed the list of possible Horcruxes down. He was certain that Voldemort hadn't had the full seven when he'd died in this time period. Nagini was living proof of that. Also, he'd checked with Dumbledore, and there was no way to transfer a Horcrux from one item to another.

He was currently using Microsoft word to create the list:

1. Ravenclaw's Diadem

100% probability that it is, indeed, a Horcrux; because we know for certain that Voldemort created it when he was young.

2. Marvolo Gaunt's Ring

85% probability that it is a Horcrux. Riddle was reported to have worn in while he was still in Hogwarts, so it makes sense that it was one of the first things he made a Horcrux.

3. Helga Hufflepuff's Cup

79% probability that it is a Horcrux. Voldemort worked a Borgin & Burke's after his graduation, however, that was about when he started creating Horcruxes.

4. Riddle's Diary

90% probability that it is a Horcrux. It is practically confirmed that this is a Horcrux. However, as it is definitely not in the hands of the yet-to-be-born Ginny Weasley, we don't know where it is. The only possibility we know of is Malfoy Manor.

5. Harry Potter

0% probability that I am a Horcrux, as Voldemort has not yet attacked me as a child.

6. Nagini

0% probability that Nagini is a Horcrux. Before the battle, it was around 10%, as I didn't trust her fully, but even if she was just pretending not to have known Voldemort, she wouldn't have killed him.

7. Salazar Slytherin's Locket

90% probability that it is a Horcrux. Also helpfully, we know almost certainly where it is. (Number 12, Grimmauld Place.) However, getting it will be hard, as many Blacks are still alive and kicking.

Harry stared at his list, and the notes he'd made about each one. He had to stop the "Seven Horcrux" mindset, really. There was only five. He continued to look at the list, taking in the percentages he'd figured out. The least likely to yet be a Horcrux was Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, and even that was almost at 80%. It was good to have a list; so far, he, Sirius, and Remus were doing far better than he'd done the first time around with Hermione and Ron.

However, though he still knew what they were, the hard part would be acquiring and destroying them. The hardest to get would likely be Salazar Slytherin's Locket, and Helga Hufflepuff's cup. He suspected that the cup was still in Bellatrix's vault, and the locket at Number 12, but they would be extremely hard to infiltrate. Gringotts had been hard enough the first time, with the dragon and all.

Harry was still a lot more confident in their ability to acquire it, as he had actual experience. There was one other glaring problem, however, perhaps even more pressing than the issue of getting the Horcruxes themselves. Destroying them.

There were four ways to destroy a Horcrux (he'd looked it up after he killed Voldemort in his real time period) and none of them were easy. You could use Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, or two other _extremely _dark curses. Harry had no wish to use any of the last three, though he did, in fact, know how to conjure Fiendfyre.

The obvious way to acquire Basilisk venom (without it costing hundreds, maybe thousands, of galleons) was to venture into the Chamber of Secrets and get it himself. This served as a double score, as if killed the little beastie, then Ginny wouldn't had been controlled in second year. However, Harry was unsurprisingly cautious about this idea. Both the fact that this was a gigantic, venomous snake, and that he himself was at the moments still recuperating from the battle were standout issues that needed to be dealt with. If he were to go into the Chamber, then he'd need to be at full strength - both magically and physically.

He met neither of these standards at the present.

Harry quickly saved the document, labeled it "da bestest list ", and snapped his laptop shut with an aggravated, "clack!" Harry sulked in his bed, scootching down on his pillow to enhance the effect. However, no one was there to watch his slight depression, so he stopped after a few seconds. It was no fun being sad when no one was there to dote on you.

Harry, for much old time's sake as practicality, wanted to kill the Basilisk with Godric Griffindor's sword. Not only would this make the sword itself able to kill Horcruxes, but it was much better than a knife, because (not only could it actually kill the beast in the first place) it could be used as a good weapon for purposes other than the killing of souls.

Dumbledore, again, had consented - to Harry's slight surprise. It seemed that in this era, the Headmaster was less oriented on "The Greater Good," however much he denied it. Harry wasn't complaining in the least, though. It made his plans _much _easier. However, this, he realized, was just reviewing what he'd already decided and it was taking away the issue at hand.

This issue is his infuriation at being practically incapacitated when he was needed. Annoyed once again, Harry resumed his sulking, not even minding that no one was looking.

.....o0O0o......

"Mr. Potter! What are your opinions about-?"

"Now that you've-"

"-do next?"

"-Will you return to the fut-?"

"-name?"

Flashbulbs went off in Harry's face, nearly blinding him. _I'm finally out of the Hospital Wing, and this was what I'm greeted with_? He thought in an annoyed fashion. Pushing and shoving around him were about thirty reporters and photographers, each looking excited and determined. Shoving her weight and (at this point in time, not as infamous) influence around in the very front was none other than the younger Rita Skeeter. He recognized her immediately, not that it was really hard to with her unnaturally blonde hair and ugly, fluorescent green eyeglasses. He made a point not to talk or look at her, much less answer any of her questions.

Harry sighed. He had agreed to one press-release and one only, because he knew that not agreeing would only bring up stories along the lines of him having some sort of dark secret. He wouldn't even be surprised if they thought he'd only killed Voldemort (mostly, anyways) to get him out of the way to start _his_ reign as Dark Lord. If he remembered correctly, there had been one article along those lines shortly after he'd defeated Voldemort the first time... but, again, he needed to get back to the problem at hand.

He'd already covered (leaving out specific spells) how he'd defeated Voldemort, and his real identity and his time. This, unsurprisingly, had been met with: first, disbelief; then questioning, and then finally uncertainty. He was sure someone would dredge up a few articles about his lies of time travel.

"Are there any more questions which I should answer for the good of the Wizarding World?" The reporters seemed at a loss at his unusual word choice. They hovered uncertainly, hands quivering in anticipation of leaping into the air upon discovering a question with those requirements. However, no one seemed to have found any. Harry smirked in a slightly Slytherin manner. "I thought so." He said, and was just turning around when Rita Skeeter jumped in.

"So, Mr. Potter, would you be willing to do a... one-on-one interview with me at a later date?" She asked. Harry turned incredulously, noting her fluttering, mascara-caked eyelashes with disbelief.

"No." He replied. "And just to confirm, I am, in fact, married." Rita looked disgruntled at his turning her down, but was still obstinate.

"Oh, come on, Harry," she said in what she apparently thought was a flirtatious, or 'come hither' way. "I'm sure the readers of The Daily Prophet would simply _love_ to hear your opinions," she simpered. At this point, the reporters around her had begun to scoot away from her disgustedly. A few were muttering curses at her; something about 'disgracing the name of reporters,' or such. Harry withheld a chuckle.

"Sorry, Skeeter," she looked disappointed at his use of her last name, "No interviews for you." Scowling unattractively, she scurried to the back of the crows, her Quick Quotes quill scratching angrily. _I'm sure that just earned me at least a few articles out of the Daily Prophet about how I really _am_ a Dark Lord_, Harry thought. _However, it was definitely worth it._

Next to Harry, Sirius, Remus and James stood at attention - acting as body guards. Reporters had asked them questions, but Harry had talked to them ahead of time and they'd agreed (with slight annoyance on Sirius's part) not to talk to reporters about their quest, the Horcruxes, or the Basilisk. Earlier that day, Harry had informed them of his plan. They had, of course, answered with yelling and protests. However, when Harry told them the whole story, they'd all agreed, James last of all.

In fact, Harry got the feeling that he was still sulking about losing that particular argument. Every time he looked at Harry, a strange expression came upon his face.

James turned towards him for a second. _Yep, there it is,_ Harry confirmed. _I wonder if I should ask about it, or not... _Harry continued thinking as he and his little group began the decent down to the third-floor corridor, where the girl's bathroom was waiting. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had agreed to hold off the press while Harry finished his business with the Basilisk, though he hadn't told them exactly what was he needed which was in there. He knew that if he actually told them the truth, they'd _never_ let him do what needed to be done.

About three minutes later, they reached the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar. Harry hesitantly pushed it open; checking to make sure no one was in there. When he had confirmed that it was empty, he held the door open and his friend slipped in quietly.

Finally hidden from any possible watching eyes, they disrobed from the loose clothes they had been wearing previously, revealing tight, black muscle shirts, Gryffindor-red protection charmed trousers, and dragon hide boots and gloves. Also in place was bone-white armor covering their chests, forearms, and the front of their calves. All in all, they looked frightening, especially in a group.

Harry looked around. The bathroom was better cared for than it had been when he'd come here in second year. There was no flooding, and though there were browning water stains and a slight, unidentifiable odor - it was really no different than any public bathroom he'd seen in the Muggle world. It was just a regular, old bug-collecting toilet. As if to prove his point, a few bugs buzzed noisily around the ceiling.

Walking up to the correct sink, he bent his head close toward the faucet (looking directly at the carving of the snake) said in a slow, deliberate tone: "_Open_." Immediately, the sinks began to rotate, soon revealing a huge, black pit to the Marauders.

"_Bloody hell!_" Sirius exclaimed, speaking for all Harry's friends. Harry nodded in agreement. Sirius may not have meant it in such a literal manner, but the pit did indeed resemble a gateway to H-E-double-toothpicks.

"We're really going in there?" James asked rather weakly, cautiously approaching the mouth of the pit. Harry nodded in response. It was giving him déjà vu being here... he half expected to see Lockhart walk in, acting all of his over-puffed self that he'd been in second year before he lost his memory. He blinked, remembering that (with Lockhart as a student) that was not entirely impossible. Harry shook his head quickly, shaking the strange thoughts out of it.

"We're going in. Who wants to volunteer to guard over the entrance?" No one raised their hands. Scared as they may be, all of them were loyal to the bone - Harry knew that none of them would agree to be left behind. Harry gave a heaving sigh. _I can't say I didn't expect this, _he thought. "Okay then!" He resumed, regaining his Auror-Captain attitude he'd acquired on the job. "We all know what we need to do. I have the sword, and you have your wands as well as the extra weapons I've supplied you with, correct?" His companions nodded briskly. "Good. Let's go in."

And before his common sense could stop him, he jumped.

Harry had free-fallen a terrifying three seconds before he hit the tunnel, and began to slide. His bones creaked slightly with the heavy contact. The only thing reducing the pain was the pain-resistance potion he'd given himself and his four accompanying friends before they'd left the Hospital Wing.

Harry slid at nearly inconceivable speeds through the inch-deep muck that coated the tunnel. Harry watched with watering, wind-whipped eyes as a few spots of light flew by - presumably other, outdoor entrances. But after 30 seconds or so of sliding, the lights stopped coming. He was under the Black Lake. Harry tried not to concentrate on the thousands of tons of water pushing down on the ceiling above him, and continued steadying himself for the drop off at the bottom of the slide. Said slide seemed to continue forever - much longer than it had the first time. Harry was just beginning to worry if somehow he'd missed the exit, when he was plopped unceremoniously onto the bone-encrusted ground at the bottom of the tunnel.

The thin rodent bones crunched unpleasantly as he quickly sat up and pulled himself away from the entrance. Barely three seconds after he'd done that, James had came soaring (yelling all the way) from the mouth of the tunnel and landed almost exactly where Harry had.

"Over here!" Harry called, motioning him over to where he now stood. Like Harry, James had barely gotten out of the way when Remus was thrown out of the hole, pursued closely by Sirius, who landed right on top of him. Remus groaned, and for a second, Harry feared he'd broken something, but then he growled at Sirius.

"Sirius, unless you are off of me in two seconds, I'll tell who you had a crush on for the first week of first year." Harry had never seen Sirius jump up quicker than he did then. He was practically a blur.

"You okay, Remy?" Sirius asked, driving the conversation away from Remus' threat. James opened his mouth, undeterred, but Harry clapped his hand over it. James turned awkwardly and looked at Harry questioningly.

"Not now, guys. We have work to do. No teasing." The three looked guilty, and followed Harry away from the tunnel exit.

The group tromped tensely through the bones and muck silently, attempting to make minimal noise, and, for the most part, failing.

"Harry," Remus said, flicking a beetle off his shirt, "-are you sure this is the right way?"

"Was there any other way?" Harry asked uncertainly, looking around him and trying to recognize anything about his surroundings. In truth, the first time he'd been down here, he'd simply run as fast as he could towards where he knew Ginny was, unconscious of the pure amount of risk involved. He hadn't really looked around him at all.

"I- I'm not sure," Remus said quietly, stepping around a large bone that Harry was sure was not, for once, a rodent's. "I thought I saw one, but-" Remus stopped speaking mid-sentence. It was no question as to why. In front of them, curled up into a spiraled shape, was a gigantic snakeskin. The same snake skin Harry had seen with Lockhart and Ron.

"This is the right way." Harry said, this time with conviction. "I'm sure of it."

_The snakeskin is far less fragile than it was last time I was here,_ Harry noted idly as he climbed over the thick, scaly mound. _I wonder how long it's been here... _For what must have been the tenth time that day, Harry forced himself to turn his thoughts back to the most pressing issue - in this case being the gigantic Basilisk hidden somewhere in this Chamber, even though it (presumably) only came when called.

"-we were here!" Sirius was commenting to James as he ripped (with a lot of effort) a large piece of the Basilisk's skin from the hide. "I wonder how much I can get for this by selling it to a Slytherin..." His voice trailed off into thoughts as he shoved it haphazardly into the chest-pocket on his shirt.

"That's not worth lugging around," Remus reprimanded, looking disapproving, yet amused by Sirius's marketing idea. "However, it is a good idea." Harry rolled his eyes. _I am surrounded by easily distracted idiots._ He thought, before realizing how hypocritical that was, taking into account how easily _he_ was distracted.

They trudged along, climbing frequently over the thigh-high husk of snake skin, until they finally reached a familiar place... to Harry at least. In front of them, huge, metal doors stood majestically, showing no way of entry. A huge, realistic-looking snake was curled around the doorframe in a sleep like state. Its etchings were so real; Harry became quieter, as if not to disturb it.

"What now?" James hissed, having the same instinct as Harry when it came to being quiet here.

"There's a password, like in the bathroom," Harry replied to all three of them.

"You know the password... right?" James said, slightly nervous. Harry nodded in affirmation.

"Yep," he said, looking the doors up and down with raking eyes. "It's in Parseltongue." At this, the three boys looked a mix of freaked out, and worried. They didn't, to Harry's great relief, look scared, though.

Harry stepped closer to the metal snake's head, looking straight into its green slitted eyes.

"_Open_," he said, hearing the hissing voice coming out of his mouth. The metal head moved.

"Agghhh!" Sirius and James yelled, though still mutedly. Remus jumped, but remained silent. _Whoops. Forgot to tell them what would happen,_ Harry thought sheepishly.

The muck-coated, silver snake twisted and slithered around the doorframe, its progress systematically pushing several levers. Finally, the rhythmic clacking noises halted, and the snake disappeared into a hole beside the door frame. Harry tentatively pressed the doors, and they came open easier than he'd expected.

Harry made a hand motion, signaling his companions to follow. They did so, their footsteps echoing slightly in the chamber they'd just entered.

Said chamber (the Chamber of Secrets, Harry reminded himself) was just as he'd remembered it to be. The silver and green theme was apparent in the architecture, as was the fetish for snakes. On either side of the hallway, huge stone snakes glared at the occupants menacingly, their gemstone eyes glittering in the low light.

On the ground, again as he remembered, water stood distilled in shallow puddles. They splashed forward, their footsteps creating ripples. In unison, the four boys gulped in a mixture of fright and anticipation.

After a few seconds of gawking, Harry started forward wordlessly, taking care to be silent. James, Sirius, and Remus followed in a silent procession, managing to be quiet.

Harry stepped towards the end of the hallway where he knew the snake would have to be called from, his heart beating sporadically. In the end, on a stone platform, was a 15-foot tall replica of the head of Salazar Slytherin. Harry recognized him immediately from his History of Magic textbook, as the story of the four founders was one of the only things in the entire course that had interested him.

The man's slanting eyebrows, long slick hair and strong jaw line made for a lasting impression.

Harry was far from gay, but he had to admit, the man was handsome - in a strange, scary way. Everything about his stone effigy was hard and brutal, from his mustache to his dark green eyes. Even his mouth was turned into a slightly down turned line. The only thing that didn't strike Harry as "high and mighty" or royal about his appearance was the large bug scuttling over his right ear.

Beside Harry, James, Sirius and Remus were staring up at the face with equal fascination.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked in the voice of a commander. They started, obviously not having expected to start right away. They nodded, though a bit slowly. "Wands?" They nodded. "Armor in place?" Another nod. "Okay. All of you, spread out. James and Sirius - to the right. Remus, you're coming with me to the left. I'm going to say the password, and then go back to you to begin."

"Got it," Remus confirmed in a steady voice.

"Do you remember our strategy?" This time, the question was directed to all of the Marauders.

"Yes." They answered shortly and formally.

"Good. Go." Remus and Sirius moved in a slow jog towards the positions he'd assigned them. However, James hovered next to Harry, looking as if he wanted to say something.

"Look," he began, "I know I'm not anything of a father figure to you, but I just wanted to tell you... be careful." Wetness prickled unpleasantly at the back of Harry's eyes at this. "Just... be careful, okay?" His voice turned pleading.

"Of course," Harry said. Then, he did something he hadn't planned for. He stepped forward towards his father and wrapped the slightly taller figure into a hug. James stood stock still for a second, not sure what do. Harry was about to let go, feeling embarrassed, when James returned the hug with equal fervor. They stood there for a second before they moved away.

"You too." Harry said, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence.

"Me what?" James asked, still a bit dazed from his first hug with his yet-to-be-born son.

"You be careful, too." Harry cleared up. James nodded ascent, then turned and ran towards Sirius - where Harry had stationed him. This strangely touching scene (especially taking in their surroundings) had given Harry a whole new drive to just get this done. He, at the very least, had to stab into the beast's mouth with Gryffindor's sword, which he how held in his hand. Unless he was as lucky as he'd been in second year, they would have to kill it first.

Izlanzi was prepped to come at his mental call if any of them were hurt or poisoned by the Basilisk's venom, but Harry had pre-decided that his goal would be to not even need her at all. This was _his_ team. _His_ responsibility.

_I'm not going to let anyone get hurt._

* * *

A/N: Longer chappie than usual here... over 5,000 words! I hope I cleared up any questions you may have had. Review!

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~AQUAHINA


	17. Swords

Chapter Seventeen: Swords

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four," Harry hissed, extremely glad James, Remus and Sirius couldn't understand what he was saying.

Next to Harry, Remus sucked in a deep breath as Slytherin's stone face began to slowly open its mouth. The stone lips opened with a grinding sound and a deep, black hole being where a throat should have been. Inside the blackness, something stirred. A loud, dangerous hiss came from the snake still inside the cave.

"Massster?" It asked in an echoing hiss. Remus shivered, and Harry could see Sirius and James doing the same thing across the hall. "Isss that you, Massster?" It repeated, and a slimy sounding slipping sound began to come from the hole.

"Yesss," Harry answered, deciding it was best for now to agree with the basilisk. "It isss I."

The slipping sound (which Harry now realized was slithering) continued at a faster pace. Remus gulped, as did Harry, who was suddenly nervous.

"Ready yourself!" Harry whispered urgently into Remus's ear. "And remember, whatever you do, do not look into its eyes!"

"O-okay!" Remus croaked back, still staring white-faced at the hole from which the hissing noise was growing louder. The tip of a green snout appeared, and Harry forcedly shoved Remus's face downwards so he was looking at his shoes.

"Face. Down!" Harry reiterated commandingly, his face fierce. Remus nodded weakly, still looking downwards.

"Massster?" The huge snake hissed, though Harry couldn't see it. "Massster, where are you?" Harry gulped. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea telling it I was its master after all... he thought, a little too late.

"ATTACK!" Harry yelled, his voice resounding off the echoing walls of the hall. He leaped forward, brandishing his sword in his right hand and his wand in his left.

"AHHHHH!" Remus, Sirius, and James yelled in their similar battle cries as they attacked it wildly, still forcing their eyes away from the hulking reptile.

"Abrumpo!" Harry cried, pointing at where he knew the head to be. This first attack had been planned, and Harry knew this spell well enough to know what would happen. The snake reared back, pulling his head higher as the severing curse hit him and caused several large slash-like cuts to form. Then, Harry's heart pounding, he raised his wand a bit higher, looking firmly at the snake's middle-section and cast another spell. "Caecus Maximus!"

The blinding hex flew in a lightning-fast bolt towards the snake's face. The thick, black beam hit it fully in the face. (Not that Harry knew that, not seeing him.)

"What hasss happened to me!" The basilisk hissed in anger and confusion. "I cannot sssee!" Harry sighed in relief. Phase One: Complete, he thought.

Blinded, the basilisk thrashed around - something Harry had not planned for. A basilisk thrashing everywhere would probably have been something to expect, he reminisced as he flew haphazardly through the air - sent by an air-stealing whack of its massive tail.

"Harry!" He heard James yell in a panicked tone. "Harry - are you-" he stopped his speaking to dodge something (presumably the basilisk's tail) "-all right?"

Still gasping for breath and clutching his ribs (a few of which were sure to be cracked) he stood.

"Y-yes," He stuttered, still gripping his wand. "It's blinded! You g-guys can look n-now!" And they did look, whipping their heads around at record speed to take a glimpse.

Apparently, this wasn't what they were expecting.

However, the snake is very imposing... Harry thought conversationally. Maybe telling them to look wasn't such a great idea, in retrospect...

"Bloody Hell!" Remus exclaimed as he sent a Stinging Hex towards its underbelly - one of its vulnerable areas. "You killed this thing alone in second year!"

Looking back, it did seem a little bit improbable.

"Yes," Harry yelled back, still in the process of magically healing his broken ribs to he could fight full-force. "Now put your attention back on the gigantic, angry, venomous snake in front of you!" And just like that, the questions and comments session stopped.

After about thirty seconds or so of agony, Harry's ribs were finally healed. Invigorated, Harry leaped into the fray - wand aloft.

Harry sent curse after curse towards it - dark and light alike, however, the snake was only angered and slightly injured. It had not been the first ten minutes of battle Harry had hoped for, and they all realized it. Think, Harry, think! He told himself as he hastily cast a shield charm to protect himself from an Infringo curse that had bounced off the basilisk's scales. I killed it last time using mostly pure luck, and the fact that it was blinded. And I didn't even have a wand then! Wait! Harry jolted at the epiphany. That's it!

"Remus! James! Sirius!" Harry yelled, momentarily taking his eyes off the huge beast. "Come here!" However, the moment the words left his lips, he realized that would be nearly impossible, taking in their surroundings.

"Are you completely insane!" James called back in an almost angry tone. "You were the one who said, 'keep your concentration on the snake!'"

"Times have changed!" Harry countered. "Hold on to your weapons!" For a second, James turned his head towards Harry, confusion and disbelief in his eyes.

"Wait, wha-AAAAAAA!" But James was only half way through his sentence when he was sent soaring from his placement on the snake's left side straight towards Harry. Yelling, James was pulled by what seemed to be an invisible string near his bellybutton. He landed haphazardly in the slime and water near Harry's feet. "What the bloody hell was that?" He gasped, looking up at Harry, who was currently sending an explosion curse towards the snake's head.

"That," Harry answered, "was Addo Tenusego."

James looked unsatisfied with his reply. "And what, exactly, is 'Addah Tenoosago?'" He asked rather scathingly, still stung at being summoned like that.

"It's 'Addo Tenusego,'" Harry corrected, amused. "And it's a variation of the summoning charm which I invented myself. I would explain, but I'll have to later. Now, I need Sirius and Remus. Addo Tenusego! Addo Tenusego!" With his spells, the two boys came hurtling towards Harry and James in the same manner James had; meaning screaming and protesting.

"What the hell!" Remus said once he'd landed in a way that seemed to repeat James's question that he had yelled a minute before.

"No time to explain! We have a new tactic!" And suddenly, they were all business. "Last time," (Harry deflected the snake's tail by raising a semi-permanent shield charm) "-I defeated the basilisk with no wand."

"You don't have to rub it-"

"I'm not rubbing it in! What I'm trying to say, is that maybe using wands isn't the best approach. Almost all of our spells are rebounding, anyways. It's more of a danger to us than it is to it. What we need to do is to use physical weapons - like the sword I used last time."

A spark lit in all three of the eyes before him, but was soon extinguished after a second or two.

"One problem... Well, actually, two now that I think about it. First of all, we don't know how to use weapons!" This was Remus, always the practical one.

"I do." Harry said. "And I didn't when I used a sword on the snake last time." Remus nodded uncertainly.

"And secondly, we have no weapons." Sirius and James nodded at Remus's point. Harry, however, in a sentiment similar to Ron in his first year, said: "Are you wizards, or not!" At his remark, Remus seemed to understand, and he flushed.

"O-Oh. Sorry."

"It's fine. Now, here-" Harry closed his eyes for concentration (while still concentrating slightly on supplying the magical energy to keep the shield protecting them from the enraged basilisk upright) and waved his wand. A few seconds later, three swords appeared. None of them was nearly as fancy nor as intricate as Gryffindor's sword - which Harry held in his hand, but they would work.

James, Sirius and Remus grabbed them eagerly, testing and weighing them in their hands. Harry gave them a few seconds to practice swinging before he spoke again.

"Now listen, guys," The Marauders heard the seriousness in his voice, and stood to attention. "This is going to be hard. None of you have so much as swung a sword in a real fight before today. Because of that, I am going to be doing the actual stabbing... if I can." They nodded understandingly. "Okay. You guys' job is to distract it, and try to push it towards that snake statue over there-" Harry pointed to a life-like effigy of a snake to their right, "-and that's where I'll try to land the final blow. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Sirius replied enthusiastically, mock saluting. James and Remus just nodded, looking significantly more worried than Sirius.

"Good." Harry said. "Also, we may need to do a mass stunning spell at some point or other... if it isn't working. I'll tell you guys if we need to do that." Harry paused, trying to think of anything else he might need to tell them. "Oh, and one last thing - don't forget that Izlanzi has healing tears. She can help us in a worst-case scenario. However, don't take that as an 'Okay' to abandon all pretense of personal safety."

Harry looked at Sirius and James in particular as he said this. Sirius, looking rather sullen at Harry's words, nodded.

"Fine," he grouched.

Harry snorted. Trust Sirius to be angst-y about not getting yourself killed.

"Ready, guys?" Harry double-checked.

"Yeah." They replied, gripping their swords tighter and directing their full attention back to the basilisk.

"Let's go!" And with that, Harry's shield spell diminished. As Harry had suspected, the second it was gone, they were thrown back into the heat of battle - a far cry from the temporary oasis of safety they'd had before. In a flash, Remus, Sirius and James had taken up positions around the snake, and they began driving it towards the spot Harry had specified. Harry, who had been watching them fight the writhing snake in a prideful manner, jolted out of his state and began running over to said stone snake.

Once he'd reached the spot he'd specified, Harry began to climb up the snake - which was far harder than it sounded. The snake's granite scales were polished, and wet with slime accumulated over the years. After thirty seconds of failed attempts, Harry realized he needed a new plan. Retracting his wand, he pointed to himself, and (after mentally begging the gods for this to work) said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Immediately, a strange feeling washed over him - Harry guessed it was the magic. It felt slightly similar to being Disillusioned, however, the "egg-cracking" feeling had been immediate, and slightly hot.

He bobbled up a foot off the ground. Harry grinned. Carefully pointing his wand higher above his head, he began levitating up the side of the statue. Ten, fifteen, twenty feet of stone scales passed until Harry reached the head. Face shining with nervous perspiration, Harry angled his wand just right, and (when he was completely sure he would have a stable landing) undid the spell and fell the two feet down on the head. Harry grabbed onto the contours of the snake's eyes like a drowning man might a life raft.

Taking his attention off his landing point, Harry whipped his head up towards his enemy. The basilisk was hissing angrily at its three attackers, forked tongue flickering dangerously as it tried in vain to hit them without seeing. James, Sirius, and Remus had managed to push the gargantuan reptile about twenty feet towards Harry - leaving it thirty feet away from where Harry perched precariously on the snake's head.

After wiping the slime off from where he was sitting (to provide a less slip-able ground), Harry slowly stood up, hands out for balance. The semi-flat head of the stone snake was about four feet long, and three feet wide, but seeing he was about twenty-five feet above the ground, he didn't want to take any chances.

Finally, when Harry had achieved good balance, he looked again at the basilisk, but promptly slipped back onto his stomach again in surprise, and horror.

He mentally cussed, thoughts rebounding in his head in confusion. What is RITA SKEETER doing in the Chamber of Secrets? Harry's mind, which had a second ago been nicely steadied (for someone who was trying to kill a basilisk, anyways), was now in complete and utter turmoil. Why is she here, when did she get here, and how did she do it? Harry thought confusedly. Harry's mind was whirring with the possibilities. Then, his eyes widened with realization. Wait...

Her animagus form!

And suddenly, everything was clear. Rita Skeeter had been mad at him for his rejection of her earlier that day, so she'd followed him - probably hoping to get some dirt on him to publish for revenge. She'd followed them the entire way... but why had she switched out of her beetle-form?

Harry took another look at her, and came to an easy realization. Rita herself was sitting crumpled against the marble stone floor, blood trickling from her right shoulder at a painful-looking (yet not lethal) rate. Remus was looking at a crossroads as to whether or not to go and help her, or keep pushing the basilisk towards Harry. The snake must have hit her when she was in her animagus form, Harry decided. 'When an animagus is hurt too hard or made unconscious while in their animal form, they will automatically switch back to their human appearance.' Almost a direct quote from "You and Your Animagus."

To help Remus's decision, Harry did the obvious. Scrunching up his eyes and concentration, he called out with his thoughts. Izlanzi! I need your help! And barely two seconds later, she appeared in a spiral of flame. For a second, Harry panicked, fearing the basilisk would see the flame... but then realized that the basilisk was blind.

What's wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you on top of a stone snake? What- Izlanzi spouted out in a mother hen-like way.

I'm fine, Izlanzi! It's Rita who needs help. Harry pointed towards the girl lying helpless on the flooded ground.

What's she doing here? Izlanzi asked, both horrified at this turn of events and curious. Is she not that annoying journalist from earlier today? Harry gave a swift nod of confirmation.

Now go help her! We've got to keep on fighting the basilisk!

Yes, Harry. She replied, and fell backwards off the stone reptile, freefalling for about ten feet before her wings caught, and she soared towards Rita Skeeter, taking care to fly around the basilisk, which was in a frenzy of rage.

Harry's mind quickly shifted back from the weirdness that was random appearances of people in the Chamber of Secrets to the other (though more expected) weirdness of having to fight a gigantic, blind snake with a sword.

Remus, who had seen that Harry had but Izlanzi on the job of helping Skeeter, had returned to fighting the snake whole heartedly - and through the combined efforts of his fellow Marauders, had managed to drive the snake so that it was barely fifteen feet from where Harry stood.

Harry readied himself, concentrating only on the basilisk. I can't get distracted again! I can't get distracted again! He repeated mentally as he gripped the leather, jewel-encrusted handle harder. The basilisk was coming closer.

Fifteen feet away...

Thirteen...

Twelve...

Eight...

One last swipe from James was all it took. The basilisk reared back, spell-blinded, milky white eyes directed straight towards Harry as it prepared to lunge towards Harry's (now scared looking father). And that was when Harry struck.

It wasn't the most well angled strike, nor did it go where he would have liked it to. Instead of deep into the roof of the snake's mouth (preferably without stabbing himself with a poisonous tooth simultaneously, as he had last time), the sword penetrated between the snake's smaller, less protective scales around it's nostrils. Harry's sword went straight through the top of the snake's mouth, and he felt his sword give way as the tip reached the venom sac there.

The basilisk gave a high-pitched, rather human sounding scream of anger and pain as Harry mercilessly held his sword in place. After a few seconds, Harry withdrew the sword. The silvery metal of Gryffindor's sword was plastered with a sickening amount of blood, as well as a glistening silver substance, which Harry presumed to be the venom. Still screaming, the snake reared back, preparing to strike at Harry. Harry's heart jolted at what the fact that it could still move meant.

The basilisk's not dead! Abandoning all pretense of personal preservation, Harry leaped - arms outstretched - into thin air barely a second before the enraged and hurt basilisk drove its head into the equally-tall statue Harry had been standing on. The marble practically exploded the extreme force placed on it by the bleeding basilisk. Huge chunks of blood covered marble fell, creating a rockslide.

However, this was hardly Harry's first concern. That honor would go to the fact that he was falling at an alarmingly fast rate towards the hard, stone ground. Helpless to cast any spell in time, Harry automatically covered his head with his hands, curling his knees. Braced for the surely crippling impact, Harry shut his eyes.

But the impact didn't come.

Well, maybe "didn't come" was the wrong way to put it. It came, all right, however, it was not the feeling of hitting marble from thirty feet in the air. It was the feeling of landing on a gigantic, pillow-covered trampoline. Harry quickly weighed the possibilities of himself not noticing that there was a pillow covered trampoline throughout the entire fight, and quickly began to formulate another option as to how he survived. As these thoughts mulled over his mind, Harry continued bouncing. His bounces were becoming shorter, however, so he soon was confident enough in his physical safety to release the fetal position he'd been in.

Immediately, he was thrown headfirst into another gigantic danger. Barely five feet above him, sniffing angrily, was the basilisk in all it's bloody, blinded and still-lethal glory. Shit! Harry thought, using the full extent of vocabulary he'd learned while living with Hermione.

Quietly as he could, Harry began crawl SAS-style away from the gigantic head. Still quiet as the grave, he crept, taking such care to be quiet so that he progressed at only about a foot per ten seconds. '

Mutedly, Harry heard Remus, Sirius, and James hitting the basilisk's body with their swords to draw it's attention away from Harry - however, the dying basilisk seemed intent on killing Harry before it's inevitable demise, no matter the consequences.

Seconds passed. Blood dripped in what seemed a noisy fashion from the basilisk's upper mouth as it attempted to smell out the Man-Who-Conquered. Harry had by now managed to get a total of ten feet away from where he'd originally laid. The basilisk was looking angry and confused, occasionally slamming its deadly head into the ground where it thought Harry might be - cracking the thick marble menacingly.

Still, Harry crept.

Finally, Harry was about eighteen feet away. Gulping, and knowing the possible repercussions for what he was about to do, Harry slid his knees forward. Pausing, Harry made sure the basilisk hadn't heard. It hadn't. Slowly, cautiously, Harry rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet, hands still planted firmly on the ground. Slower still, he lifted his weight off his hands and, at long last, stood up.

Once righted, he turned his body so it faced the snake, which was still oblivious to the change in dominant power in the Chamber.

You're dead, snakey, was Harry's last (and rather brutal) thought before he withdrew his wand once again and pointed it directly at the snake's open, blood-excreting mouth.

"Sectumsempra!" He yelled, not even caring to do the spell non-verbally. At the sound of Harry's voice, the basilisk began to turn its ugly head towards him, an angry expression still etched onto its green scales. But it was too late to dodge, even if it had known it had to dodge.

The deadly curse struck the already wounded snake straight in the face, and blood spurted everywhere. Another humanoid scream rent the chamber as blood seemed to explode from the basilisk's head. The dark mess splattered on the cracked marble floors, mixing with the water and muck already there. The scream continued in a long, anguished cry for what seemed like forever. But finally, it stopped.

The kingly snake fell with an alien grace onto the floor. It lay motionless - eyes still open in a blank glare; scales still covered with blood, water, venom, and all manner of things. Panting from the effort the fight had taken out of him, Harry began to walk over to the fallen reptile. From his right, Remus, Sirius, and James were yelling success, pumping their fists into the air. It struck Harry just then that this had been their first real fight - for life or death.

Finally, Harry reached the dead basilisk. He poked it unceremoniously with the tip of his wand. It didn't move. Harry allowed himself a small, triumphant smile as he looked down at the fallen body of his adversary. I win.

By this time, the rest of the Marauders had run up to where Harry and the basilisk were. They were poking and prodding about the dead snake, Sirius going so far as to stand upon it. They were strangely energy-filled for just having finished a fight. The adrenaline must not have worn off yet, Harry decided, taking a glance over to where Skeeter was still getting healed by Izlanzi.

"-knew we could do it!" James was saying boisterously as Harry finally began actually listening to them. "Right, Harry?" Harry simply nodded in affirmative, not even flinching as James - in the spirit of the moment - slung his left arm around Harry's shoulders. "Haha!" He yelled to no one in particular, his voice bouncing off the tiles of the Chamber.

Harry smiled, allowing them to have their victorious moment. It was rather strange for him, seeing someone so happy over finishing a fight. He'd never really had the experience. In his history, he'd only really fought people/things who (though he'd often defeated them) were so strong and evil that he'd gotten no real joy out of completing a fight. Normally, he would just rest afterwards, however, despite his confusion over their reactions to winning, remained silent.

"Yes!"

"-look at its-"

"-see when I hit it that one time-"

"-off its scales-"

"-we could do it!"

"ENOUGH!" On the other hand, Harry's patience didn't last forever. "We need to get back to business, guys. We didn't kill this things just for our own personal victory, right?" They nodded, looking a tad bit ashamed at themselves.

"Right," Sirius grumbled.

"Now come on - we need to get your swords covered in venom, remember?" Remus, Sirius, and James grunted wordlessly in response.

"Wait, why don't you need to get venom on your sword?" Remus asked curiously.

"I already did in the fight." Harry replied shortly. Remus blushed a bit at forgetting something of that importance. Harry leading the way, the small group walked over to the head of the deceased snake. Unshaken by nerves, Harry tucked his wand and sword into his belt, and pried the wide jaws of the basilisk open, revealing a nightmarish mouth full of congealing blood, silvery venom, and deadly sharp teeth.

Beside him, Sirius gulped in a rare show of fear.

"Are you absolutely s-sure that it's dead?" Sirius asked, looking at the snake distastefully.

"Yes," Harry answered. There was no answer from Sirius. Harry turned, and seeing that Sirius was not appeased by his answer, Harry sighed. Holding up the upper jaw by his left hand, he reached into his belt and withdrew his wand. Waving it briefly, he incanted: "Dicomorbus!" Above the snake's head appeared a wavering hologram of what seemed to be... statistics?

"Numbers? What do they mean?" Remus asked, stepping closer to the hologram - his excitement over a new spell momentarily overriding his cautiousness about the (supposedly) dead snake. "They say..." Remus squinted, "'100%, 90%, 0%.'"

Before Remus could ask again their meaning, Harry answered his first question. "It's an unusual type of diagnosis spell. It means that the basilisk is one-hundred percent dead, with ninety percent of its body fluids - meaning blood and venom - still inside it's body. The zero percent means that there is no chance for the snake to be revived - even taking into account that it died just a few minutes ago, and dark magic."

James, Sirius and Remus nodded slowly in comprehension.

"Now, are we going to get venom on your blades, or what?" Harry asked in an exasperated tone. His three companions jumped at the sudden change of voice, and looked a bit sheepish.

"Sorry, Harry," James apologized.

"Now - let's begin!"

As it turned out, the process of covering one's sword with basilisk venom - from the actual body of the snake, no less - was extremely difficult. The four had been struggling for almost half an hour (having covered only Remus's sword by then) when Rita Skeeter had awoken from her previously unconscious state.

At first, she hadn't remembered anything as to how she'd gotten there, leading her to believe the four of them had kidnapped her. After several minutes of calming her down, and convincing her that they had, in fact, not taken her to be their slave, they had spurred her memory as to how she'd gotten there. After their explanation, she had begun to help them. Harry was pleasantly surprised at how strangely nice she could actually be when she wasn't in full-blown reporter-mode.

"And... done!" Sirius cried as James retracted his sword from the beast's mouth. James had been the last to dip his sword in the venom, and though he had previously stated that he wouldn't even need to put venom on it (he was still firmly sticking to his decision to stay behind at Hogwarts), Harry had overruled him, saying that while they were down here they might as well get him a good weapon - just in case he ever needed another weapon besides a wand.

James had agreed, and even looked a bit excited at the idea of keeping his sword.

"So," Remus said, still breathing heavily from holding up the head of the basilisk while they had plunged their blades into the venom sac. "What now?"

"L-let's rest for a bit," Harry replied, laying down onto his aching back.

Normally, it would have been no problem to venom-ize the swords. They could just levitate the upper portion of the mouth with a spell. However, as they'd found to their great dislike, the basilisk seemed to be impervious to any basic spells - such as Wingarium Leviosa. Sure, dangerous ones worked (take, for example, the Sectumsempra Harry had used to get the killing blow), but simple ones such as Impedimenta would have no such effect.

No one made any motions to disagree to Harry's suggestion. Even Skeeter seemed unwilling to speak at the moment.

Rita Skeeter herself was a rather strange contrast to the chamber around them, now that Harry thought about it. Her rather flamboyant style of dressing (with bright, neon colors) made her look like a strange mistake by an artist, or something along those lines.

As Harry contemplated this, he suddenly realized that they hadn't even talked about Rita since she'd arrived. Time to rectify that, he decided.

"Skeeter-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Call me Rita," she gasped, still catching her breath. Harry, who was still unsure if she was flirting with him (after the Interview Incident), narrowed his eyes.

"Rita, then. Would you be willing to explain why you found yourself down here in the first place?"

Rita's eyes shot open, not having expected this conversation just yet.

"Wh-wha?" She stuttered nervously. "I don't know what you mean!"

Harry looked at her disbelievingly. "What I mean, is why you followed us uninvited to the Chamber of Secrets in your animagus form!" Rita's eyes, which had been growing more and more ashamed throughout his sentence bulged unattractively at Harry's last comment about her bug-form.

"What are you talking about?" She yelled unconvincingly. "I don't have an animagus form... I'm not registered!"

In the background, James, Sirius and Remus snorted.

"Both you and I both know it is extremely possible to become an animagus without registering," Harry answered - tone lowering. "And it's not going to help your case at all if you lie about it!" Rita winced at Harry's words.

"Okay, f-fine. I am an animagus," she admitted. "But I only use it for journalism! I don't do anything illegal with it!" All four of the Marauders snorted.

"In my book, stalking four boys is illegal," Remus said. "I wonder what the Minister would have to say about it..." Again, Rita's eyes bulged, and she cowered lower.

"I'm s-s-sorry!" She wailed, literally falling to the ground. "I won't d-do it again!"

Harry was silent as he tried to decide how to deal with her. Rita was sniveling unattractively on the ground at this point, wiping her mascara-smeared eyes with the back of her dirty sleeve.

"Fine. We won't tell the authorities." Harry finally replied. Her head flew up as if shot from a cannon (not an entirely unappealing fragment of imagination, Harry thought offhand) as she turned to stare at him in wonder and surprise.

"Thank you!" She screeched happily. "But... why? It really was wrong and illegal for me to follow you like that..." she bent her head back towards the ground.

"Because," Harry began, smirking, "-you aren't going to print a single word of this little... adventure to the press. Nor will you ever print another unkind word about any students of Hogwarts."

Again, her head shot up from it's down turned position. However, this time, she was spluttering with anger.

"W-what? Why shouldn't I!"

"Well," Harry re-began, pretending to consider the options, "-I guess it really is your choice whether or not you print anything... but it you do, we're going straight to the Minister himself to tell him that you are an illegal animagus!" Her face, which had been growing hopeful at the beginning of his sentence, dropped again.

"Erraagh!" She yelled in anger to no one in particular. "FINE!" She ground out. "I won't print anything. Happy?"

"Yep!" Harry replied, smiling.

Not surprisingly, this only seemed to fuel Skeeter's anger.

"Uggghhh!" She stalked off towards the tunnel heading back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. When she was about halfway down the hallway, she whipped around - still furious. "Well? Are you coming?" She snapped.

Amused, the four Marauders stood, readjusting their various weapons as they began to follow the raging girl out of the chamber - leaving only the dead, milky-eyed snake to remember them being there.

End of Chapter


	18. Diadems and Beginnings

Chapter Eighteen: Diadems and Beginnings

It was much faster walking back from the Chamber to the bathroom than it had been going there, or so it seemed to Harry. Perhaps it was the lack of possible imminent death, or the fact that no one was making any effort to be quiet, as they had going there. But either way, Harry was glad. He just wanted to get out of the Chamber of Secrets.

It may be a "secret-forbidden-super-cool" place (according to Sirius, anyways), but in truth, it was musty, old, and filled with animal skeletons. Not exactly an ideal place to hang out.

When the group (including a still annoyed-looking Rita Skeeter) reached the bottom of the tunnel, they paused. Harry blinked. Finally, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, James broke the ice.

"So... how are we getting up?" He asked, looking at the end of the slide-like tunnel as if he expected it to grow an elevator.

That's a very good question, Harry answered, though he didn't word it. Last time, Fawkes had pulled them up. Technically, he supposed, Izlanzi could give them a lift in two or three loads, but he'd never liked the idea of four grown boys (and a girl) hanging onto the tail feather of a bird - even if it was a phoenix. Especially if said phoenix was Izlanzi. He knew she could handle it, but he still didn't have to like the concept...

"I... erm..." Harry started, attempting to answer his question, but failing. "I dunno. There must be somewhere we can take stairs or something... it's not like when Slytherin was around, he just hired a phoenix to bring him up each time..." This was more Harry thinking out loud than actually talking to his friends.

Remus looked thoughtful. "Do you think it could be the same sort of magic as the doors to get in there, so you have to use Parseltongue?" He asked. Harry could have slapped himself. It was so obvious! That sounded exactly like something Slytherin would have set up - so that if somehow you were faking knowing Parseltongue, you would be stuck down there. Harry shivered at the idea. It was far too similar to the situation in which Ginny had been stuck down here... he wouldn't wish that even on Malfoy.

"That sounds about right," The Man-Who-Conquered answered. "Here... let's try this-" Harry closed his eyes, thinking hard about snakes, "Let me up." Nothing happened. Everyone present looked a bit disgruntled at this turn events.

"What did you say?" Sirius asked curiously. Harry told him. "Maybe you need to say what you actually need... like, 'elevator' or 'stairs.'" Harry nodded, willing to go along with it.

"Elevator." He said in Parseltongue. Nothing happened, not to his surprise. He'd been hopeful (he wasn't looking forward to climbing all the way back up), but it wasn't like Slytherin had actually had elevators in his time.

"Stairs," he tried hopefully. This time, to everyone's great relief, it worked. Blossoming out of the wall just a few feet from the mouth of the tunnel they'd come down appeared a stone staircase, lit by flickering blue fire in rather dirty looking torches.

"Cool!" Sirius said, leaping forward to examine the blue torch. "How do you think it stayed lit so long?" Skeeter, who had been silent until now, snorted.

"Magic, dumbass," she said in a way obviously meant to degrade Sirius. Harry frowned, not liking her tone. However, they were a mile below the earth's surface. It was not time to begin a row.

Sirius, on the other hand, looked angry, and a tiny bit embarrassed. He had no such thoughts.

"Well you can go-!" He started to say, but Harry quickly cast a silencing charm on both of them... who in turn started wordlessly screaming at each other, and Harry.

"Ahh, that's better," Remus said, rubbing his ears a bit. Harry was forcefully reminded that the full moon was coming up. Harry sighed in annoyance - just another thing for him to do before he left... luckily, he'd asked Dumbledore for the ingredients prepared. Wolfsbane took very little time if you took away the preparation portion of it.

Though Harry was looking forward to telling Remus he had a (temporary) solution to his furry little problem, he wasn't stupid enough to think that now was the time to tell him. Not only was Skeeter here (in all her reporter glory), but they - to reiterate - were in the friggin' Chamber of Secrets.

"Move out, men!" Harry commanded, walking up to the mouth of the stairs and picking up one of the numerous torches.

"And woman," James contributed, speaking in place of Skeeter - who looked as if she was trying to convey a similar message via some sort of ESP. She seemed pleased by James's interruption, though she was still very obviously annoyed at having to carry the slimy torch, as well as their promise of her not reporting the whole incident.

Though, Harry thought apprehensively, there is still a small chance she might go through with it... but he quickly dispersed the thought. Even Rita Skeeter isn't stupid enough to report a story if she will be uncovered for doing something as illegal as becoming an animagus without a license.

And so (in a fashion abnormally quiet - due to the silencing spells Harry had placed) the four companions plus a complaining reporter began the lengthy trek upwards. The staircase was monotonous in a claustrophobic, creepy way. If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought they were somehow climbing up the same area of stairs again and again. Everything was the same around each spiral of the staircase they trudged up.

The slime-walled hallways... the evenly placed torches burning with the blue fire... even the stairs themselves. Time passed, and even Harry, who had an abnormal amount of patience for someone his age, was getting extremely annoyed and tired of the climbing they were doing. Glaring at the hallway as if blaming it for his stitch-ridden sides, he continued.

They had been climbing for about twenty minutes straight when Harry finally gave in, and proclaimed, "Break-time!" The minute the words were out of his mouth, Sirius, James, Remus, Harry and Rita Skeeter collapsed in an unorthodox heap.

"H-how l-l-long is this s-stupid tunnel?" James panted, leaning against the wall, not caring how much it was dirtying his battle-wear.

"I d-dunno," Harry replied in all his stature as the one who had defeated Voldemort. "W-we must be further d-down that I thought..."

"No s-shit, Sherlock," Remus said in a rare burst of profanity, looking at Sirius with an expression half annoyed, half amused. Beside Harry, Rita Skeeter (who had been complaining ever since Harry had removed the Silencing Spell) was breathing so hard she was incapable of speech... a small relief.

"Let's r-rest a bit..." Harry said, still breathing hard. There was no need for the others to reply.

After about five minutes spent catching their breaths, they were pretty much ready to go. The boys, who had recovered first (being more used to exercise) looked rested, and were chatting amiably, ignoring the - still glaring and panting - reporter to Harry's left. Harry, however, took pity on her and had been talking to her for the last few minutes about various things. Sure, most of their conversation he had found utterly uninteresting, but a few bits of it were good.

As it turned out, Rita had originally wanted to become a columnist for Witch Weekly magazine, not the practical gossip-monger she was today. However, it had fallen through, and she'd been picked up by the Daily Prophet, who had immediately found her found her talent at making even the most ridiculous rumor sound slightly believable.

The woman had become more and more animated as she spoke, almost forgetting where she was as she recounted her various discoveries (including the fact that Flavius Belby - a man renowned for his work on the Lethifold - was obsessed with growing copious amounts of nose hair, then chopping it off and carefully pasting it into a special journal just for that use) and adventures.

"Though," she assured him, taking a dubious look at her surroundings as if she still couldn't believe where she was, "-this is certainly the strangest and most dangerous adventure I've ever had in my lifetime." Harry didn't argue.

Finally, with Harry still surprised at how strangely un-evil Rita Skeeter could be when not trying to destroy his reputation and general social life, they got up and continued their trek up the spiraling staircase.

They walked. And walked. And walked some more. And, just for the heck of it, they did some more walking.

Finally, when Harry was just about to call another break, they saw a light at the end of the tunnel - literally. Above them, a small sliver of natural light was protruding from the mouth of the stairs. Upon seeing it, the party lost all previous weariness they had - immediately dashing towards it with all the fervor of a starving man towards Thanksgiving dinner.

They stumbled out of the stairs, momentarily blinded by the sudden intake of light.

"I never thought I would be so happy to see Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!" Sirius exclaimed, dramatically hugging a bathroom stall. James and Remus snickered, and Rita seemed to refrain from laughing, choosing to keep up a rather disapproving look.

"You're alive!" Myrtle said, swooping down on them from her perch on top of a carved windowsill, looking thoroughly surprised.

"Indeed," Harry agreed dryly. "Who would have thought?" Myrtle didn't notice his sarcasm, however. She was still busy gliding in and out, weaving in between them and poking them with her icy, spectral fingers in an irritating way, as if making sure they were indeed alive.

"I was sure you would die," she replied, seeming almost disappointed. Though James, Sirius, Remus and Rita Skeeter looked vaguely insulted, Harry wasn't surprised. Her reception of them was scarily similar to what had happen the first time around, when she had expressed her wish for Harry's ghost to 'share her bathroom.'

"Yes, that's all good and fine, but we really must go," Harry said, hurrying their procession along. The rest of the Marauders nodded in unison, though Rita looked a bit annoyed.

Harry had just started on his way, when she drawled, "So you're just going to leave an entry to the Chamber of Secrets open in the middle of a girl's bathroom?" Her voice simply reeked of comeuppance. Harry gritted his teeth, angry at himself for forgetting such an important thing. Without turning - he really didn't want to see her Cheshire-cat face - he hissed, "Clossse," in Parseltongue.

Without uttering another word ('upholding his dignity,' he called it), he stalked out, James, Sirius and Remus following in a less silent manner. Rita Skeeter exited as well, though she went her separate way. Behind him, Harry heard Sirius and James yelling at her in a rather threatening manner to remember her promise.

"Whatever!" was her only reply. Harry took that as a 'yes.'

The quartet continued to walk (Harry at the lead, still a bit miffed) towards their destination - the Room of Requirement. Before they had set out, even before Harry had been released from the Hospital Wing, he had had the Marauders construct their base - plus an area for him. Harry, however, had no idea what the final look of the room was like, and he was excited to see it.

When they reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry waited while Remus (who had the best memory to remember exactly how they'd set the room up) paced three times, concentrating hard as he did so. That finished, a door appeared as usual - old and iron-wrought. Sirius leaped forward to the entry with enthusiasm, his excitement looking paradoxical in his grime and blood covered battle suit.

"Your carriage awaits, good sir," he said, bowing swiftly and deeply numerous times. Harry snickered, as did Remus and James. Harry stepped in first, another testament to his leadership over the Horcrux-expedition.

Entering the room, Harry recognized it from most of the Marauder's descriptions of the usual Marauder Hideout; with each wall for a different Marauder, and Gryffindor colors spilled like gold and red paint everywhere. However, there was one glaring difference. In the place where Wormtail's section of the room had been, there was now a wall about Harry. Pictures, drawings, books, even essays and pieces of homework littered the shelves. Most of it Harry recognized - things from his trunk, among other items. However, a few were new.

Most touchingly of all, in the center of Harry's shrine was a large, Wizarding photograph depicting Harry, Sirius, James, Remus and Lily - all standing and waving merrily on the shore of the lake. Tears rose to Harry's eyes, and he simply didn't the strength (both physically and mentally) to wipe them away. As stupid as it sounded, this was somehow proof to Harry that he had changed the future. There was no more Wormtail - he couldn't hurt the Potters.

And in his place... was Harry. Harry; a Marauder. Harry; James's and Lily's son. Just him, for once in his life, without a subtitle. He wasn't "Boy" or "Brat," nor was he the Boy-Who-Lived, or even the Man-Who-Conquered. Just... Harry.

This thought made tears flow even faster, though this time Harry managed to wipe them away with the back of his hand - not that it did any good, as all his company had seen them. He turned his head towards the gathered boys, who (instead of looking uncomfortable at Harry's show of emotion, as he'd half expected) looked happy, and in James's case, sentimental and slightly proud. Harry didn't know how someone could manage to be fatherly while younger than his "son," but James had somehow managed it.

"I-I..." Harry stuttered, at a loss for words. Remus smiled kindly, fully understanding Harry's feelings - the empathetic person he was.

"You don't need to say anything," He said in a comforting yet slightly gruff tone. "Come on in - we aren't here just to look at out amazing redecorating skills, you know." Harry nodded silently, still utterly speechless.

After doing cleaning spells on each other to remove most of the muck clinging to their bodies, they headed to the center table, which was now a version of a war command center. The chair at the head of the table was largest, and Harry assumed it was for him - judging by the phoenix and snow leopard engraved on the back. He sat down, surprised by how comfortable it was. Well, my father is very gifted at Transfiguration... Harry thought, still marveling at the pleasant feeling of using present tense when speaking of his father.

"We four Marauders now bring this meeting to a start," Sirius said in a formal and surprisingly... well, serious manner. "First off-" he glanced down at a piece of paper he held, "-is the matter of where to start. We have already figured out more or less where the Horcruxes are. The question now is which one do we steal first?"

Silence enveloped the room after Sirius finished his small speech. Harry had to admit that he was impressed, and a bit surprised, at Sirius's show of maturity.

"I vote we start with the obvious - Ravenclaw's diadem. We could even do it today!" This was James, who brought up a valid point. Harry hadn't really realized before exactly how close they were to having completed a whole 1/5 of their problem!

"Seconded," Remus said. Harry thought for a second, as they seemed to be waiting for his get-go to announce final judgement. Try as he might, he actually couldn't see any downsides in the acquisition of the Diadem. For once in his life, it seemed something would be easy. Then, wincing at his thoughts, he quickly knocked on wood - much to his companion's confusion, though they didn't word it.

"I agree," Harry said, nodding. "It would be foolish not to destroy the one closest to us at this moment. To hold off would be like showing Voldemort a mercy - something which we cannot afford, nor do I wish, to do."

"Okay, so that's taken care of," Sirius said. The grim animagus, surprisingly, seemed to have taken over place as facilitator for the meeting. "After that, where will we go?"

For a few seconds, there was silence as everyone thought it through. However, it was Harry who spoke first.

"First to the Gaunt House, for sure. It's the only one which we can safely visit and rest assured that Voldemort is not catching onto what we're doing. The other main two - Malfoy Manor and the Ancient and Noble House of Black - will be harder, and surely will alert Voldemort as to what we're doing."

The Marauders nodded slowly in comprehension.

"After that," Harry continued, face screwed up a bit at the thought of repeating the Horcrux hunt came into painful clarity, "We'll go to Borgin and Burkes. There is a small chance that Hufflepuff's cup might be there, though the more likely option would be that it is in Gringotts. And finally, to the Black's and the Malfoy's."

James, Sirius and Remus were silent as they soaked in the new information, analyzing it for any problem. After nearly a minute of pure thought, they appeared to have found none other than the obvious problem of sneaking into the assorted dangerous places he'd mentioned.

"Seconded," Sirius said, slamming his fist down onto the table with an excited finality. However, despite his excited expression, it was obvious in his eyes that he fully understood the magnitude of the task they were undertaking... something Harry was all-too-glad for. That feeling of understanding was a key player in what had made Ron leave he and Hermione all that time ago in the forest.

"I agree as well," both Remus and James said determinedly, echoing each other.

"Then it's decided," Harry said, looking around at each of them with a steady eye - sizing them up for second thoughts and seeing none. "We will rest for a few hours here in the Room of Requirement, get something to eat from the Kitchens, ect cetra, and then we will destroy the Diadem."

James and Sirius nodded gravely.

Remus, however - who was sporting a small crease across his forehead from concentration, said, "But didn't you say that you didn't come across any traps when you got it last time? Do we really need to rest up?" 'Do you think there will be danger?' was the unasked question there, Harry noted, approving of Remus's sensible outlook, especially in comparison to how much of the original search with Ron and Hermione had been spent worrying over the (comparatively stupid) trials and tribulations over their burgeoning relationship.

"No, I don't expect danger, but it's definitely a possibility," the Man-Who-Conquered admitted. "And we need to rest up anyways - we may as well get two birds with one stone. And as for traps, I doubt it. Last time, Riddle was too grandiose to think anyone but him could have found this room-" he gestured to the room they were sitting in, "-and I highly doubt he would have put up, and then taken down traps."

Remus nodded slowly in agreement, mulling over the possibilities. "Sounds good," he said, smiling up at Harry. Harry smiled back, happy to see his plan had passed the Remus pass/fail test.

"Now, let's rest!" James said loudly, immediately jumping up from his seat in a motion paradoxical to his statement, hands in the air. Remus, seeing the humor in it, snickered along with Harry. Sirius, on the other hand, didn't see the humor and jumped up to join James jumping around the room like coffee-addicted three year olds.

"I'm going to actually rest," the werewolf said amusedly, stretching out and waving his wand in a jerky motion - causing a large, green beanbag to materialize in front of him. Harry was about to follow Remus's lead when his stomach rumbled, actually vibrating his entire body as it roared in protest.

"I think I'm gonna go get myself a snack from the kitchens," Harry said, rubbing his stomach. "Do you guys want anything?"

Remus didn't answer, already snoring. James and Sirius, however, paused their pillow fight long enough to pant out, "A-beef-and-cheese-and-lettuce-and-ham-and-pepper-and-mustard-and-mayo-and-tomato-and-avacado-and-jalapeño-sandwich," from James, and: "A-carrot-and-bean-and-chicken-and-turkey-and-zucchini-and-tomato-and-corn-and-shrimp-and-clam-and-lentil-soup," from Sirius.

"... O-okay?" Harry replied unsurely. Are they really serious? He wondered, looking them up and down as the resumed whacking each other with large, gold pillows. Yes, he concluded. They are. If they were joking, Sirius would be trying too hard not to laugh. The thought that they were serious was rather depressing, actually. Who orders that?

Harry gave a long-suffering sigh, and left the Room of Requirements, shaking head in disbelief.

If wasn't a long walk to the kitchens from Barnabas the Barmy, but it seemed for Harry to take forever. Perhaps it was a mixture of the snake he'd just killed and the leftover tiresome feeling one usually gets after defeating a Dark Lord (Yes! Harry re-congratulated himself mentally). Well... yes, it was that, he decided.

Finally reaching the kitchens, Harry raised one aching arm to the pear on the painting before him. Ticking it half-heartedly, Harry was admitted into the expansive kitchens almost unnoticed by the unusually small amounts of house elves hustling around. It was a few seconds before he was noticed by a particularly young looking elf carrying a pie in oven mitts that went up to her shoulders.

"Ooh! Master-Harry-Potter-Conqueror-Sir!" She said, nearly dropping the pie as she squeaked in excitement. Harry refrained from sighing just because he knew the elf would most likely take it as an insult and punish herself. Will I ever escape the hyphenated names? He asked no one in particular. Unsurprisingly, his conscious gave no answer. The elf continued, unaware of the conversation going on in his head. "What may I get for Sir?"

"Erm..." Harry started unsurely, "-whatever's handy, I guess," he said. The female elf began bawling with fervor, alerting the other workers of her (and therefore Harry's) presence. They immediately began to circle around him in a sea of thigh-height, tennis-ball eyed workers. "M-m-master Harry w-wants whatever i-is good f-for h-house elves!" She howled, clutching the tattered pink pillow case she wore as clothing. "He is too k-kind for G-Granite!"

"I really didn't mean-" Harry began, trying to calm the elf he assumed to be named Granite. "I just need-" and the second the word 'need' was out of his mouth, all seventeen of the elves who had been weeping around him leaped to attention, standing with the tenacity of war worn soldiers.

"House elves will help Master Harry Potter Conqueror Sir!" They said together in unison. Harry sighed. He knew it would only make them upset again to deny their help. I may as well go along with it, he decided reluctantly.

"I'd like some chicken, pumpkin juice, a salad, clam chowder, and treacle tarts for Remus and I..." he said, almost to himself, "-and for Sirius and Remus-"

But before he could even finish his sentence, an elderly elf to his left spoke up.

"Master Black and Master Potter?" He said excitedly, nearly jumping up and down excitedly.

"Uh huh," Harry agreed, unsure where this was going.

"Molar! Denim! You get working on Master Black's soup!" The elf commanded. "And you two- Ginger and Flax - gets working on Master Potter's sandwich. Keepie-" here he referred to himself "-is going to help Master-Harry-Potter-Conquerer-Sir." He said this last bit with a touch of self-importance, seemingly excited to be serving Harry.

That, however, wasn't what Harry was thinking.

"You know Sirius and da- James's requests?" He asked curiously, wondering absently if they had some sort of tunnel hooked up to the Room of Requirement that they had used to eavesdrop on them.

"Of course! They is ordering same things almost every time they come here!" Keepie answered happily. Harry gave yet another long suffering sigh. Of course they do, he thought. How could I forget... this is James and Sirius I'm talking about. Always expect the unexpected.

"You know, you can just call me Harry," he offered. However, when the elf's huge eyes began to fill with tears, he hastily added, "And no crying!" The tears were gone as soon as they appeared, though Harry felt a bit ashamed at ordering a house elf to do anything... even something like that.

"Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir."

I guess that's good enough, Harry thought, resigned.

"Would Master Harry Potter sir like to sit down?" Keepie offered, snapping his long, spindly fingers and making a chair appear. Or a throne, really, Harry thought in amazement as he looked up at the hulking gold and red chair that sat upon a raised dais in the middle of the kitchen.

"Erm... no thank you, Keepie. I'll stand." Harry replied, though he was a more than a bit tired. It wasn't worth it to sit on a throne like that... it was too Voldemort-esque for him. Keepie, however, was not sated.

"But Keepie thinks Master Harry Potter sir is tired!" He protested, tugging in a child like way on the bottom of Harry's garments. But still, Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm standing."

Keepie pursed his lips, adding a whole other stern dimension to his (already strange) personality. "If Master says so..." And he walked off, looking a bit miffed, though still fully excited at Harry's appearance in his kitchen. A second later, the ornate throne and its dais vanished with a small, "POP!"

It was only a scant few seconds before seven bright eyed and bushy tailed house elves appeared in front of Harry, carrying four gigantic picnic baskets in their quivering arms.

"We has got Master Harry Potter sir's food!" The one Keepie had addressed as Ginger squealed happily, setting down the basket that was easily as large, or bigger than, herself. "Here he goes!" The other three baskets were set down next to it.

"T-thank you," Harry stuttered out, taken aback at the sheer amount of food they had made for him. It appeared there was a whole basket for each one of their group. "It's much appreciated." Harry waved his wand, and shrank all four to pocket size, putting them into one of the many concealed pockets into the battle gear he was still wearing. A second later, he looked up, only to be confronted with a sea of openly sobbing house elves.

"M-master is t-t-thankful!" One screeched, rolling on the ground.

"-we is not d-deserving of such k-k-kindness..." another wailed. Harry sighed. He usually agreed with Ron in that house elves enjoyed their work, and to free them would hurt them more than not, but this was something he just hated about their servitude: Their inferiority complex.

"Please stop crying!" Harry once again commanded loudly. Again, they jumped to their feet, dry-eyed at once.

"Yes, Master Harry Potter sir!" Keepie said determinedly. "If you needs anything else, ask us! We is always happy to help Master Har-" but Harry cut him off before he could fully finish his long title.

"Thanks, Keepie," He said, and quickly left before they could burst into tears yet again.

Harry made his way back to the Room of Requirement quickly, keeping an eye out for students and teachers in the hallways. However, he saw none - an unsurprising fact. From what he'd gleaned from James, Sirius and Remus, nearly half the school had been called back home by their parents at least until the end of the year, and the other half had new rules. Corridors they couldn't go in and "buddy-systems" reminiscent of Harry's brief experience at Stonewall Elementary in Surrey. Not to mention the Aurors they had employed.

Of course, all these new safety measures were more for the well-being of the parents, not the students. After his most recent attack, and defeat, there was only a sliver of a chance that the leftover Death Eaters - which were few - or anything, really, would actually attack the castle. In addition, from what Harry knew of Voldemort and his followers, they never tried the same thing twice. They were the exact opposite of a one trick pony... I guess I could call it a billion-trick pony, Harry thought, grinning slightly.

Once he'd reached the room, Harry quickly paced back and forth three times, thinking single-mindedly about the Marauder Base (as they called it.) He entered; nearly dead on his feet he was so tired. He walked zombie like over to a King-size bed someone had conjured for him while he'd been gone (he suspected James, due to the quality of the Transfiguration) and un-shrunk the baskets of food.

"FOOD!" Sirius and James yelled, still impossibly hyper. They're probably still using up their battle-adrenaline, Harry decided in his half-asleep state, opening the basket that had "Master Harry Potter Conquerer Sir," written in large letters on the front.

His father and godfather bounded over to the now enlarged picnic baskets, switching when they realized they'd grabbed the wrong baskets. James reached in and grabbed his gigantic sandwich, and chowed down.

"Me-ayn!" He said, mouth full of the strangest sandwich Harry'd ever seen. "'dis ish da' best swandwich evver! 'Za haws elves hwer are 'da bessht!"

"So I've heard," Harry replied dryly, leaning back on his pillows while he ate an abnormally large chicken leg he'd retrieved from his basket. "Should we wake Remus up?" He asked, glancing at the still-snoring boy to his right with slight concern.

Sirius grinned, between slurps of soup. He wiped his chin off with the back of his hand, and walked over to Remus with a leg of chicken similar to what Harry was eating. Sirius crouched next to Remus's head, grinning madly.

"Reemmuuss..." he said in a sing-song voice, waving the steaming-hot chicken leg around his nose. "We've got chicken..." Harry noticed confusedly that he laid stress on the word, 'chicken,' and wondered why. Barely a second later, Remus's eyes shot open as if he'd just been playing possum the entire time. With a swipe almost too fast to be seen, he grabbed the chicken from Sirius's hand and buried his teeth deep into it with a feral snap of his teeth, slightly-dilated eyes focused single mindedly on the hunk of meat in his hands.

... Oh. That's why, Harry realized.

This seemed to be an old joke for James and Sirius, for they only snickered a second or two before becoming re-absorbed with their various dishes of strange food. Remus, however, looked embarrassed and a bit worried - looking towards Harry cautiously, as if afraid he would get angry at him. Harry shook his head, serving to both disperse Remus's worries, and express his own disparaged thoughts, and followed their lead - returning to his food.

...o0O0o...

Three hours had passed since they had first entered the Room of Requirement. James and Sirius, battle-earned adrenaline having worn off long ago, were flopped motionlessly on a pile of disheveled pillows. Remus, who had woken and was looking refreshed, was delicately eating his clam chowder, amusing himself by slowly placing croutons and tomatoes from his salad into Sirius's hair for what appeared to be his revenge for the Chicken-Incident.

Harry, however, was laying eagle-spread on his expansive bed, remnants of food spread all around him, thinking for once, of nothing. His mind was peacefully blank.

However, all was not to stay so nice.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY HAIR!" An outraged Sirius yelled suddenly, having awoken to a crouton in the eye. Sirius was not an overly vain person, but that didn't mean he didn't take pride his appearance. And, as Harry had found from months of sharing a dorm with him, his hair was the crux of the matter. Sure, you could mess with his skin, or even Transfigure his nose of hands. But mess with his hair? Not a good idea.

James, awaking on account of Sirius's outburst painfully close to his ears, winced - rubbing said ears and looking at Sirius with an annoyed expression on his face. "Thanks, Sirius," he said sarcastically. Sirius looked a bit ashamed for a second... then seemed to remember the state of his hair. Eyes narrowing at the chuckling werewolf beside him, he opened his mouth to speak again when Harry proverbially cut off the head of the argument by sending a blue spell at Sirius's head.

Surprised, he paused for a second, glancing at Harry in confusion. Harry pointed to his own head, and Sirius seemed to get the message that his hair was once again restored to it's former (in the words of Sirius) glory. Sirius

let out a glad sigh.

"It's time to go," Harry said suddenly, nipping any possible conversation by the bud.

"Go where?" Sirius asked, scrunching his eyes up in confusion. Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"The Diadem, remember?" He replied a bit sarcastically. Sirius colored.

"I- I knew that! I was just... making sure you knew it!" He declared a bit too loud. Once again, Harry decided that now was not the time to argue, and let Sirius's pitiful excuse slide with only a raised eyebrow.

"Anyways, Sirius? Remus? James?" They all looked at him solemnly. "I'm going to be the one to destroy the Diadem. I don't doubt that, out of either choice or necessity, either Sirius or Remus will have to kill one sometime in the future, but this time I'm going to."

All three nodded, including James who (despite knowing that he wasn't included just because he had turned down the expedition) looked a bit put out.

"I agree," Remus said, nodding. "You should definitely be the one to destroy at least the first one... I think we need a tangible example."

"Okay," Harry replied, understanding and agreeing. It makes a lot of sense that they would want to see a Horcrux destroyed before doing one themselves, now that I think about it... he thought. I would have if I'd had a choice. "Then let's go."

Together the four boys walked out of the pillow-strewn version of the Room of Requirement, watching the door seem to melt away into the wall eerily. For the third time that day, Harry paced impatiently back and forth in front of where they were standing. After three times going back and forth, a door that appeared exactly the same to the one that had just disappeared appeared in front of them. With a feeling of extreme déjà vu, Harry yanked the handle open, opening the doorway to the Room of Requirements yet again.

"So this is where it's hidden..." Sirius trailed off, looking around with a sweeping gaze.

"Yeah," Harry replied briskly, trying not to get caught up in apprehension. "If memory serves me, it's over here..." He walked over to the left, passing shelves and shelves filled with pretty much anything you could imagine. Clothing, vials, cauldrons, books... Harry even thought he'd spotted a coloring book over there in the corner.

They walked around - staying in a group - for around five minutes, trying to find the bust Harry had described to them. Finally, it was Remus who spotted it first at the end of the fourth aisle they'd checked.

"There it is!" He exclaimed, pace quickening. Harry's heart did a funny sort of two-step beat for a second as he saw it. It brought back so many unpleasant memories... the fire, Xenophilius Lovegood, and even the death of Crabbe among them.

Harry fingered his sword as the four boys stood around it in silence. Harry swiveled his head a bit to see how the others had reacted at seeing their first Horcrux. Sirius looked almost let down... probably at the ordinary-ness of the artifact. However, deep in his expressions, Harry could see loathing and disgust directed towards the innocuous seeming crown.

James and Remus, on the other hand, were staring at it with slanted eyes - sizing it up. James in particular looked a bit curious, though he made no move to touch it.

"This... is part of Voldemort's soul?" Remus clarified, nose wrinkling a bit with disgust as he stared down at the tiara. Harry nodded, and took a deep breath, swiftly darting his hand out and grabbing it from it's off-kilter state on the bust. Next to him, James sucked in a breath of surprise and worry, hand twitching as he made a small movement to stop Harry's hand.

"Its fine," Harry assured them, a little bit touched. "We can touch it. It can't hurt physically or mentally during such a short period of time."

Harry placed the silver diadem on the wooden ground before them, seeing his three companions huddle around it a bit.

"I need some room," He barked, unsheathing Gryffindor's sword with a metallic sliding sound. They hastily stepped back, giving Harry a wide berth. Harry took a deep, meditative breath, closing his eyes. Though he'd tried to remain calm for the sake of the rest of the Marauders, he truly was very nervous about this. He had never destroyed this particular Horcrux - it had been eaten away by Crabbe's Fiend Fire in this exact room of the Room of Requirements. He had no 100% way of telling what it did, in fact, have a last-ditch security system put into it, like Marvolo Gaunt's ring had.

Harry opened his eyes, focused completely on the headdress before him. He stepped back with his right foot, shifting the weight of the long sword. Focusing all his strength into his arm, he swung the sword in a deadly downward slash, embedding itself into the intricate carvings on Ravenclaw's wisdom-bestowing diadem.

The millisecond the tip of the venom coated sword touched it, the crown burned red-hot - letting out an eerie, high pitched shriek of pain and anger. It vibrated madly; its motions quivering all the way up Harry's arms. The sword was stuck into it, almost all the way through.

Just a little bit more! Harry thought desperately, trying in vain to halve it. It may have been a tiny bit of a private reason, but Harry didn't want the Marauders seeing his greatest fear or transgression, as had happened with Ron. That thought, though he'd never admit it, was what pushed him to his limit.

With a final, savage cry, Harry drove the sword all the way through the diadem, sticking it into the floor beneath them by at least four inches. All the resistance, vibration, and screams gone, the Room of Requirements filled with a stillness he had never felt in that particular room.

Harry only had time to see the astonished and amazed faces of James, Sirius, and Remus before his world melted into blackness.

End of Chapter


	19. Nostalgia

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter Nineteen: Nostalgia

Harry's world was a realm of sound and darkness. He could see nothing. Feel nothing. Smell nothing. Heck, he couldn't even taste anything, even the familiar palate of his mouth. Everything was solitary. Never changing. The one thing he could do was hear.

And boy, did he hear.

Harry heard everything. From the dull smack of his head hitting the floor of the Room of Requirements, to the choking cries of his companions as they presumably tried to wake him. It was strange, knowing someone was touching you, but not being able to feel nor sense it in any way. Surreal. It was as if he had started to go unconscious, but had only managed to do it half way.

With only the sounds rocketing off the stone-hewn walls and stuffed bookshelves to help Harry figure out what was happening to his motionless body, Harry heard himself moving in a way he figured similar to the sonic waves bats used to locate things. It was as if his hearing had increased tenfold, at least. I wonder if this is what it's like to be a werewolf near full moon? Harry wondered, having a whole new sympathy for Remus.

However, it was the panicked voices of James, Remus and Sirius that impacted him the most. They were almost deafeningly loud, their deep teenaged baritones actually pushing into his ears in a manner that Harry was sure would hurt had he not been currently lacking the ability to feel.

"-to Professor Dumbledore!" Sirius was saying, the over the sounds of three pairs of running feet.

"This way!" Remus yelled, causing the three feet to seemingly skid on the floor and change directions. "The passageway behind Ulwinn the Underdog will take us there faster!" There was no reply other than the scared, panting breaths emanating from the Marauders. After a half a seconds' pause, the vibrations he'd been hearing changed into an annoyingly echo of people dashing up a narrow staircase. They continued, not stopping despite the increasingly loud pants he heard coming from the people he assumed to be carrying him.

It was a very strange feeling, not feeling or seeing anything. Harry supposed it was a bit like being a ghost... only without vision. He wanted to speak up; to do something to tell them that he was okay. Well, he thought he was okay. He hoped he was okay. Harry racked his brain, trying to think of anything he could do... any situation he'd heard about that was like this. But nothing came to mind.

Deep in his thoughts, Harry almost didn't notice the time passing rapidly. However, he was forcefully reminded of the world outside the black space he felt he was floating in when he heard...

"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!" The amplified voice of James projected all around him, louder by far than anything he'd ever heard. It was as if a rocket had taken off two feet away from him, while a marching band blasted in the background. Once again, Harry was tremendously grateful that he couldn't at the moment feel pain, or (presumably) get hurt.

In true Dumbledore-fashion, the man seemed not even to be fazed by James's frantic yell. In fact, by the sound of his footsteps, all he'd done was get to his feet and walk over, though after a bit he started running - presumably after he'd seen Harry in all his unconscious state.

"What happened?" His voice asked briskly, with a hint of desperation. There was a pregnant pause as thoughts flew around the Marauders - trying to decide whether or not to tell the truth. In the end, it was Remus who spoke first.

"We destroyed a Horcrux," he said a bit hesitantly.

"W-what!" Dumbledore cried with an uncharacteristic level of emotion. "How? No, tell me later. Just tell me how he ended up like this! He has a pulse..." James, with the occasional additional comment from Sirius and Remus, began hurriedly telling their story from the moment they had gotten out of the Chamber... which James had apparently decided was either A) a piece of information he didn't want to tell Dumbledore, or B) a story for another time.

In the space of about a minute, he had finished - giving detailed explanations of what the Horcrux had looked like, and about a dozen pieces of information Dumbledore apparently needed to know. There was silence, and Harry suspected that they were fussing over him - most likely trying spells to awaken him, or to do so physically.

"So what's wrong with him? Is he going to be okay?" Sirius finally blurted out. There was a pause, and Harry's mind was in overdrive trying to somehow figure out what Dumbledore was thinking as soon as possible...

"Yes, he will be fine," Dumbledore finally replied, a full thirty seconds after the question was asked. "I just need to make a quick trip to my personal Library in my office to retrieve a book... I know a spell that will help him."

The Marauder's sighs echoed around the room, and Harry was sure his mental sigh equivocated to at least twice the thankfulness of theirs.

"Thank god..." Remus muttered a bit huskily as Dumbledore's footsteps hurried away in evenly-spaced clacks. "He's going to be all right."

"Yeah." James agreed with equal solicitude. "For a bit there, I t-thought..." but he couldn't finish his sentence, voice cracking emotionally. Sirius gave a heart-felt grunt of concurrence regarding Harry's fathers' sentiment.

"Thank god," he echoed. After that, there was a verging-on-uncomfortable silence (though it would have been far more so had they known Harry could hear them) as Harry listened intently to Dumbledore scuttling around in the floor above them, items frequently crashing onto the ground as he dashed. Harry suspected his comrades could not hear it, else they would make some sort of comment. He chalked it up to his improved hearing abilities.

"I've found it," Dumbledore announced as he strode purposefully into the room. The sound of flipping pages commenced for a couple of seconds before the Headmaster apparently found what he was looking for. "Found it!" He exclaimed rather unnecessarily. "Mssrs. Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pet- well, not Mr. Pettigrew, I suppose- back off please. I will need room."

After his impromptu speech, the scuffle of shoes moved away from Harry. Harry, despite his trust in Dumbledore, felt nerves building as he wondered if Dumbledore's spell really would work. It was against his personal grain to let anyone put a spell on him...

Dumbledore came to a stiff halt, and began whispering nearly intelligible latin under his breath.

"Exito Excessum quiesco... MODO!" He murmured, yelling the last word with stress. Suddenly, a feeling like a mild electric shock ran through Harry, and he gasped for breath - marveling at even being able to feel at all.

"Harry!" James, Sirius and Remus cried simultaneously, relief dripping nearly tangibly from their mouthes. Harry sat up, squinting in the sudden, bright white light surrounding him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine..." Harry assured, rubbing his vaguely sore ears. Luckily, his hearing level had decreased some - though, to his confusion, it had left him with still far better auditory abilities than before... but now was not the time.

Slowly, surely, Harry opened his eyes unwilling from their squint. However, the moment he opened them for real, he gave a quick hiss of pain, shutting them just as tightly as he had before. Is it really supposed to hurt this much when I see light after my eyes adjusted to dark? He wondered more than a little apprehensively. This had never happened to him before...

"Are you okay, Harry?" Remus asked worriedly, sensing something was amiss. He placed a large hand on Harry's shoulder, and though the pressure looked to be light, it felt as if someone were gripping his shoulder firmly. Harry resisted wincing at the unusual circumstance.

"Y-yeah," Harry agreed, still rubbing his eyes and ears. His senses seemed strangely acute... could it be a side-affect of Dumbledore's spell?

Harry looked up at said Headmaster, who was sitting in a large plush chair behind the his desk. His aged face was etched with relieved contentment, his cobalt blue eyes twinkling as if they were nuclear powered - though, Harry thought, with just a tinge of regret or worry deep inside.

"Headmaster..." Harry began over Sirius, James and Remus's fussing, "-were there any... side affects to this spell?" He asked it delicately, and in as a jovial way possible. However, his light tone was not enough to keep from arousing Dumbledore's as well as the Marauder's suspicions. The teenagers in the room stopped speaking, and looked at Dumbledore searchingly. The Headmaster had a strange look on his face.

"Truthfully, Harry, I do not know." There " a muffled intake of breath around the room. Harry's heart plummeted. "The spell I used was... old magic, to say the least, and Gray at best. Very little is known or written about it." Dumbledore, by this point, was looking extremely alarmed, looking Harry up and down as if diagnosing him. "Do you feel any telltale symptoms, Harry?" Harry paused.

"Not anything bad, I just feel very... strange."

"Can you clarify further?" Dumbledore nudged gently.

"My senses... hearing, sight and touch especially... seem to have become more-" Harry searched for the right word. "... intense." The occupants of Dumbledore's office looked confused, with cocked heads by the Marauders and closed eyes for the Headmaster.

"Are they stronger in a painful way?" James questioned, uncertain whether to be worried or not.

"Not really," Harry admitted, "though I don't doubt it would hurt if I heard too loud sounds, or saw too bright light." Harry left out the last one, as it was unsaid, and (if what had happened to him was anything like he suspected) far worse than the other possibilities.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Dumbledore figured out what Harry had implied in his tacit speech.

"Will you permit me to try something, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, withdrawing his wand from the hem of his robe sleeve.

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore," Harry replied a bit formally, readying himself for the strange feeling of spells. "Spell away." With that, Dumbledore gave his wand a quick, precise twitch. Immediately, a thin, lavender beam shot out and hit Harry in the middle of his chest. A feeling like laying in hot sand enveloped him. Gritty, but warm and pleasant. Though Harry was unaware of it, a smoky chart had appeared next to him - visible only to Dumbledore, as the crafty Headmaster had planned.

Eyes floating over it, Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"But that's...!" He exclaimed in a low whisper, speaking more to himself than to anyone else in the room.

"What is?" Sirius asked, pouncing on the opportunity. Dumbledore didn't reply for a bit, still astonished at the results before him.

"Mr. Potter here... seems to have around 47/20 vision, and four times better hearing than your average human." He said rather bluntly, though it elicited a gasp only from Remus. Sirius and James only looked confused at the first part, though impressed by the hearing bit.

"What does the 57/20-thing mean?" Sirius questioned curiously, looking at Harry as if expecting his eyes to deform.

"It means," Remus replied, still amazed, "-that Harry has nearly three times better vision than is humanly possible." Sirius's and James's mouthes dropped, chins falling to previously thought impossible lengths.

"Whoa! Cool!" Sirius cried. "Do it on me, too, Professor!" Dumbledore chuckled humorously, looking vaguely sick to his stomach.

"I'm afraid I cannot, Mr. Black. Or rather, will not." Sirius looked rather peeved, and confused.

"Why-" he began, however, Harry cut him off with a dull tone in his voice.

"Because of the last thing it improved. My sense of touch. Of feeling." The Marauders (including Remus, unusually) still looked baffled. However, it was James who figured it out first. A horrified expression slowly grew over his face.

"B-by how much?" He asked shakily.

"Not too much, considering. It was about doubled." Dumbledore replied, still monotone. "But enough to make what you feel in the Cruciatus Curse seem like a walk in the park compared to what Harry would feel."

...o0O0o...

It had been officially the longest day in Harry's life. It was actually impossible for him to believe it had been only this morning that he had left the Hospital Wing. In one day, he had defeated a basilisk, a Horcrux, and gotten cursed on top of it all. All in all, a full day by any reckoning.

However, Harry was determined that it would not end like this.

"Let me out!" He yelled, struggling against his captors. "I'm fine!"

"Hold still, Mr. Potter! You're only making this take longer!" Finally, still glaring angrily at the five people surrounding the Hospital bed he being held to, Harry ceased his struggling.

"Fine. But this had better be quick! We need to leave today!" He said, glaring slightly as he looked at Dumbledore - the one who had given him the Full Body-Bind Curse to get him there. All he got in return was a serene, sad smile. Next to him stood Sirius, Remus and James in a line; all of them staring at him intently. James, on the far left, looked a bit sad at Harry's words, and Harry knew why.

Leaving on his quest meant leaving his father behind at Hogwarts - something he despised having to do. James, seeing Harry's slightly pitying face, narrowed his eyes and lifted his nose pridefully. Harry turned away to save him a bit more dignity, turning his attentions back to Madame Pomfrey.

She had been poking and prodding him with her wand for at least ten minutes, having him down (disgusting!) potions, and even getting two muggle shots. However, by her face, nothing seemed to be working to take away his heightened sense of touch more than 0.03%.

Time passed in relative silence, broken only by the light chattering of two curious and hero-stricken second years in the cots beside him who had been staring at him unashamedly since he'd arrived. However, Harry did suppose he was rather a spectacle. Barely a few days after he'd defeated the greatest Dark wizard of all time, here he was with a thin coat of Chamber of Secrets-gunk still sticking to the armor he was wearing - surrounded by worried comrades and a frazzled Mediwitch, no less.

If he didn't hear about this in the next day's Daily Prophet, he would eat his pants.

Finally, after nearly half an hour (during which Madame Pomfrey's already frizzy hair seemed to get poofier and poofier as she stressed) of tests, the witch gave a sigh and sat down beside him.

"I've never seen anything like it, Albus," she remarked, eyeing Harry as if he was an interesting and yet pitiable experiment, not a human being. "It seems to be a mix of spells. The first extremely Dark..." she shivered at the thought of it. "And the second, 'Gray Magic,' if you will."

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his not thoroughly Light spell, but said nothing.

"The second one, harmful as it may be on it's own, seems to have saved Mr. Potter's life."

James gave a small, un-manly squeak of surprise and fright as he comprehended exactly how close Harry had been to death. Sirius wasn't doing much better; his face blanched a horrible shade of white. Remus as well looked scared, though his eyes had a calculating air to them as he tried to figure something out. Remus would have made a good Slytherin, Harry mused in the way his completely-out-of-context thoughts seemed to always go.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, was gaining color. His face, previously pallid and as frightened looking as the greatest wizard of his time could look, was now immensely grateful. Apparently, he had finally convinced himself that his spell to save Harry had not been unneeded or bad idea.

"Will you be able to... lessen the effects back to normal?" The Headmaster asked, still seeming a bit faint. Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips, fiddling with her wand in her robes pocket as if she still wished to whip it out and spell Harry even more disgusting potions.

"Not entirely," she finally replied. "However, I do have a little potion around here somewhere he can take now that should lessen it at least a little bit. I assume the sight and hearing changes are not the priority?" Harry and Dumbledore nodded in synchronization. "Good, because this potion goes directly into the arteries leading to your heart, which will help your somatosensory system. However, it will not affect your eyesight, nor your hearing more than about 0.001%, I'm afraid."

Harry nodded in comprehension. "Also, Madame Pomfrey, I'm going to have to leave after you give me that potion." Immediately, her eyes narrowed.

"No!" She yelled forcefully, standing from her chair in a way extremely reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley. However, this was one thing Harry absolutely refused to back down about. Glaring back equally, if not more intensely, than she was, he countered.

"I'm afraid what I have to take care of is a bit more important than a day's good bed rest, Madame."

The Mediwitch looked taken aback. "Mr. Potter, it is not a matter of wanting or not wanting to leave... you have a delicate-" However, her mentioning his 'delicate' state was the last straw for Harry. He liked the witch. He really did. However, he had had far too many people in his life telling him that he was powerless, or that he had to (metaphorically, of course) stay at home while the grown-ups did the work.

"No." He replied, voice like stone.

"Mr. Pot-"

"No. I am leaving in approximately two hours from now, Madame Pomfrey. You can either let me leave without my pain potion, or with."

Madame Pomfrey blinked, mouth opening and closing fishlike as a slight double-chin wobbled beneath. There was silence in the room. Dumbledore, who to Harry's surprise had not butted into their argument, was looking completely calm and tranquil. However, Sirius, Remus, and (to a lesser extent) James were grinning like the cat who had caught the canary.

Then, without a word, Madame Pomfrey whipped around and bustled off into her office, muttering something about Magical Medical School and unthankful brats all along the way. The Marauders cheered silently, while even Dumbledore's face showed a bit of amusement.

The next hour passed in relative peace. Dumbledore left after about half an hour, (correctly) assuming that the four wanted a bit of time alone before leaving one of their own behind - which the Headmaster had indeed been informed of. Harry drank his potion, which did indeed make him feel a bit better. However (though he didn't tell Madame Pomfrey or the Marauders this) he was absolutely certain that everything would still be far more painful from then on.

In a rather unexpected turn of events, it was not James, but Sirius and Remus who were by far the most emotional about their departure without James.

"Are you sure you don't want to-" Sirius pleaded for at least the fourth time in the last half hour.

"I'm sure, Sirius!" James replied, snapping a bit though he still looked immensely saddened by his own words. "I wish I could, but I need to stay with Lily right now." His eyes softened as he thought of his girlfriend, then he snapped out of it just as quickly. "And stop asking me that!"

"But-" Sirius started to retort, but then stopped mid-sentence.

"He's right, Sirius," Remus interrupted - looking almost as old as Harry had seen him before he died. "James has made his decision. I wish he could come, too, but what he needs to do most right now is to stay." James looked thankful.

Harry, who had remained silent until now - letting them work out the worst of their problems - finally spoke.

"Imagine if he came with us, and I wasn't even born! It's entirely possible, you know." As Harry spoke, Sirius shivered a little bit, though he didn't respond. The four Marauders sat in silence then; no more arguments, no more convincing. They just sat, enjoying each other's company. All of them were painfully aware that it was quite possible that this would be the last time they were all together as a group.

Finally, after a little over fifteen minutes of silence, Dumbledore strode into the room in his usual stately manner.

"Three hours have come and passed, boys," he said, eyeing them with sad, untwinkling eyes. "I believe it is time for Mr. Potter, Black and Lupin to depart." Harry nodded, realizing by his companion's stony faces that he was the only one capable of making the first move. Stretching out his sore muscles, Harry sat up in his hospital bed - pivoting his legs over the side of the thick, white covers.

Grabbing his wand off his bedside table, along with an extra vial of potion, he flicked his phoenix wand and removed the Muffliato spell he had placed there right after Dumbledore had left. The minute she could hear their voices again, Madame Pomfrey hurried into the room from her office, arms laden with various items.

"Wait!" She called as Dumbledore and the Marauders were almost exiting. "Before you leave, bring these," she shoved a small bit of the supplies into each boy's arms. "I have no idea what you four are up to, but knowing your histories I doubt it is without danger."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said gratefully, gifting her with a smile. Professionalism gone, she gave a warm, motherly smile to them.

"Take good care of yourself, dears." She said finally, before turning around and bustling over to the eavesdropping second year three beds away and whacking him lightly on his fractured leg for doing so - eliciting a small yelp of surprise and pain.

Together, Dumbledore, Harry, James, Sirius and Remus walked down to the Great Hall - all five walking at a funeral-march speed. In other words, slowly. On the way there, Harry marveled at the castle around him; experiencing deja vu about the time barely more than six months ago when he had walked nearly this same way from McGonagall's office to tell his wife he would be time traveling two thousand years into the past. He gave a small, half-hearted chuckle as he remembered.

They arrived at the majestic Great Hall in what seemed far too quick of a time, even at their snail-like pace. A few students were eating in it, even at the late hour of 11:00pm. They looked at them curiously, then wide-eyed. Harry remembered a bit too late that he probably should have Disillusioned himself - being the savior of the Wizarding world and all that.

"Here," Dumbledore said quietly, even after having placed a privacy charm over them. "I retrieved your trunks." He handed them to Sirius, Remus and Harry in their minimized form, though they quickly expanded them and placed in the medical supplies.

"Thank you, Albus," Harry said, using his first name (as had been requested) for the first time that day. If Harry wasn't mistaken, a few stray tears sparkled at the corners of the aged man's eyes.

"No, thank you, Harry. You have brought so much hope to the Wizarding world, and to this old man." Dumbledore opened his arms, and gave Harry a hug. Harry was momentarily surprised by his show of touchy feeley-ness, then forgot as he hugged his grandfather-figure back. After a few seconds passed, Dumbledore broke away and gave Sirius and Remus long hugs as well - though they looked far more uncomfortable with it than Harry had been.

Then, without a word, Dumbledore left the four along in their Privacy-Bubble; only a few feet from the door that would split apart their destinies. For a minute, they stood in silence, drinking the other three in with a forlorn sadness.

Then, James spoke. Or blurted, really. "I'm sorry I can't go with you, I should have-" But Harry cut him off.

"No, James," he began, looking his father up and down with an expression of pride, "-you are making the strongest decision out of all of us by not coming. Not to mention I feel much safer leaving the castle alone when you are here to help protect it. I wish, god I wish, from the bottom on my heart that you and Lily could join... but I think you were right. If you came and left Lily here, you two would be split apart."

Sirius and Remus nodded together at Harry's words - recognizing the innate truth for what it was.

"He's right, mate. You did the right thing." Sirius said, his voice lower than usual as he spoke in a gruff tone.

"Go get the girl, Prongs," Remus added shakily, eliciting a small smile from those present.

"You can count on it," James promised before pulling first Remus, then Sirius, then Harry into long hugs - ignoring the dozen or so curious students watching them. He hugged Harry last, and as he did so Harry closed his eyes - savoring the moment of his first real hug from a father.

Then, all too soon, the goodbyes were done, meaning only one thing. It was time to leave. Re-shrinking their trunks with a deft flick of his wand, Harry pocketed it and turned back to James, still extremely reluctant for this to be the end of all the fun and (relative) safety he'd had in the last year.

"Dad..." he started, calling his father by his honorific for the first time out loud, "-make sure we can see you again before I leave, okay?" Harry's voice cracked on the last word, and before him a single tear rolled down James's cheek. Sirius and Remus busied themselves tidying their robes, turning away to allow Harry and his dad a private moment.

"I swear," James promised earnestly, looking Harry straight in his eyes. "And it's fine if you call me 'Dad.' I kind of like it, actually." Grinning at his last words, James ran his fingers through his hair - a sign of his slight nervousness.

"Thanks, dad," Harry said, pulling James into one last, lingering hug. "It's time for me to go. Take care of mom for me." James chuckled a little, though the effect of happiness was ruined by the fact that two more tears had joined the first in running down his cheekbone.

"Don't worry 'bout it," James said, patting Harry on the back. "I will."

Suddenly, Harry knew he had to leave. If he stayed for even a few minutes longer, he had a feeling he would either A) back down and stay for a few more days minimum, or B) weaken, and try to convince James to accompany them. Both of these options he had sworn not to do. So, gathering his courage, he whirled around in a dramatic sweep of his black robes and yanked the hulking door open.

At once, a cold chill ran through the room - feeling even colder than usual to Harry due to his magically-induced sense of touch. He shivered and wrapped his cloak around him tighter. Taking one last, long look at the school behind him, he called,

"Sirius, Remus, it's time to leave." Said Marauders followed Harry to the door without comment; the only emotion showing through there eyes being sadness at leaving their friend and leader of the Marauders.

Then, without even a final goodbye, Harry shut Hogwarts's front door with a thunderous slam.

And then, it begun.

End of Chapter


	20. Rebeginning

_Chapter Twenty: Re-beginning_

The second Horcrux-hunt of Harry's relatively short lifetime did not begin with a bang, nor a flash. Or even a deafening "BOOM!" as Death Eaters attacked – popping out of the woodwork as they'd always seemed to manage. No, that sort of thing was what Sirius and Remus had expected, and what Harry had in the beginning of his first time. Of course, for he, Ron and Hermione it _had_ started like that, what with the whole running into Death Eaters fiasco... but that was not the point.

No, their search for Horcruxes began with rain, if Harry could even call it that. If he himself were to name it, he would call it something dramatic and subversive sounding, like, "The Torrential Death." And it was torrential, there was no doubt about it. Harry's back was literally _aching_ from the sheer force of the water pounding into his spinal column from a painful angle. Even through his thick, wool-lined cloak, Harry was sure he would have at least minor bruising on his back the next morning, assuming he made it until then.

Realizing his train of thought, Harry gave a water-logged snort. _I really have become a Drama King since I met the Marauders,_ he reflected. _'Assuming I make it until then,' indeed... _Right next to Harry, two of the three corrupting pranksters trudged along in an equally, if not more, miserable fashion than even the gloomy Harry. Harry watched as Sirius gave an annoyed sniffle to ward off an encroaching cold.

It had been three days since Remus, Harry, and Sirius had left the grounds of Hogwarts. Since then, they had moved quickly. Already, they had been Tom Riddle's orphanage where he had lived growing up, then to a library near the town of Little Hangleton - hoping to dredge up any records they might have had about Marvolo Gaunt for any hints of what kind of spells would be haunting his old house. Voldemort had proved to be a "man" of tradition, after all. Neither attempt had been fruitful, to the disappointment of both Harry, and his companions to an even larger extent. Though they didn't word it, both seemed a bit dispirited at the less-than-compelling start to their journey.

"Harry?" Remus shouted through the deafening, pounding rain. "Why don't we just _Apparate_ to the village up ahead instead of walking?" Harry shook his head, though he would have given anything to take Remus's suggestion.

"Normally, we would," Harry explained loudly, "-but this is a Wizard-run town. They have magical sensors, and we don't want the publicity of people knowing we are here." Next to him, Sirius looked a bit disappointed at Harry's response. He had apparently been hoping Harry would take Remus's proposal. "We're almost there, anyways!" Harry yelled in what he hoped was a consoling manner.

There was no more conversation in the last fifteen minutes of their trek from Oldham, in Greater Manchester. They had come far in the three days they had been gone. Far from the northern Scottish reaches of the United Kingdom, they were now in central England, in a rather unpopulated area. As previously mentioned, they had been staying in the rather large town of Oldham for the last day. As of now, they were heading by foot towards Linyard Cross - a largely unheard of Wizarding town barley ten miles north of Little Hangleton, their next destination.

Then, after what had seemed like forever walking in the dim light of the twilight hour, the torchlights of Linyard Cross leaped to greet them seemingly out of nowhere. _Well, perhaps 'seemingly' isn't the right word_, Harry thought, eyeing the impressive town in front of him. _It _is_ invisible to Muggles, after all. That was probably a security system._ And indeed, from what Harry could see, Linyard Cross was definitely worth protecting. It was unlike any other place he had ever seen, Wizarding and Muggle alike. The feeling was similar to what he supposed it would feel like to live in the Middle Ages.

The town itself seemed to be a mass of one-story, stone and wood homes all facing a select few streets - all of which, in normal Wizarding fashion, had no vehicles other than the recherché cart or bicycle. In the center of the town was a castle-like building, though it was no where near the size of the medieval castles in storybooks. In fact, if the ancient style of architecture hadn't been such a blatant give away, Harry might have thought it was just an extremely large mansion.

"Wow," Sirius muttered after a few seconds of staring, nearly wordless for once.

"Wow is right," Remus agreed, looking at the town in front of them with widened eyes. Harry could practically see his mind whirring, most likely wondering why this town wasn't as famous as Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, not to mention the fact that it was centuries behind. As far as Harry could tell, there wasn't anything from the last two centuries or so there whatsoever – even electricity.

"Come on," Harry urged, beginning to walk the last hundred yards or so to the town's gate. Remus and Sirius followed wordlessly, still extremely impressed by the rustic appearance.

As they grew closer to the village, the sounds from it grew louder and louder, though they were still quiet in comparison to the deafening rain. Comparatively, Linyard Cross wasn't really loud at all (compared to other Wizarding places Harry had visited), however, the noise they were making was significantly different from anything Harry had ever heard or witnessed in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley; and it was only amplified by his increased sense of hearing. Instead of the now-familiar sounds of the hustle and bustle as shoppers scurried from shop to shop, there was creaking sounds. Running footsteps, and even the sounds of a few and farspread explosions.

Harry surveyed the town as it grew closer, this time with a more critical eye towards the inhabitants instead of the architecture. What he saw intrigued, worried and humored him.

In short, Linyard Cross was a thief's paradise. People ran every which way, mostly dressed in simple black robes, all of them eyeing the other ioccupants of the street as if they were; A) worried about being jumped, or B) planning on jumping someone. People carried large boxes with a covetous look on their faces, a few actually having gone so far as to have strapped their items to themselves with leather bands or a spell. A few people even seemed to have attached their umbrellas to their wrists with a chain. Next to Harry, Sirius gave a noise of surprised exclamation, though he said nothing.

Nudging Remus and Sirius's wrists to alert them to his plan, he gave a small nod. At once, they discreetly retracted their wands from inside their robe sleeves and gave them a small whirl - muttering the incantation for Glamour spells. In an instant, Remus looked to be a young boy about nine years of age with large, blue eyes; and Sirius was an old man of around seventy years old with a distinct limp. Harry, on the other hand (having _literally_ drawn the wrong straw in their contest the day previous) had changed himself to a crotchety old woman with waist-long tangled white hair and an expression on her wrinkled face mirroring someone who had smelled something bad.

Now slowing their procession to account for the now "elderly" companions, they approached the gate at just above snail speed. Sirius had conjured a large, black umbrella nearly eight feet in diameter, and was holding it over his "wife," and "grandson." They cautiously entered the village, all senses on alert for anything out of the ordinary in this thieves town. They didn't have to wait long.

They had barely taken ten steps inside the impressive gates to the town when a young man just younger than Harry's real age ran by them, brushing by Sirius and pushing him a bit out of the way. Harry narrowed his eyes, sensing something amiss.

_Accio Sirius' wallet!_ He thought, waving his wand guardedly under his large shawl. Less than a second later, a red and gold drawstring bag came soaring back to Harry's hands from the disgruntled fist of the now-scowling boy. Sirius looked relieved as Harry handed it back to him. The thief slunk off into the shadows of a nearby apothecary shop, looking annoyed, though strangely sympathetic towards them. If Harry had read his emotions correctly. _But now is not the time to ponder that,_ Harry decided.

"We should get inside as soon as possible," Harry said with a disguised tone. "We just need to rest here, get some supplies, then head out to Little Hangleton tomorrow."

"Swounds good 'ta me," Remus replied with the lisp of a small child. Next to Harry, Sirius smirked vindictively, his expression promising some sort of blackmail.

"Let's stay there," Sirius said, pointing his gnarled wooden cane towards a large building to their left with a gold sign in front announcing itself as the_ Broken Broomstick Inn and Tavern_. Harry looked it up and down - more cautious than he would usually be in choosing a place to sleep.

"I guess," he replied reluctantly, "-but still, remember to be careful with your belongings..." as he finished his sentence, Harry whipped his white wreathed head around to glower at a twenty-something couple of a man and woman who had been sizing their group up with narrowed, critical eyes.

Together, the trio walked into the fairly busy tavern - Sirius and Harry keeping a firm grasp on Remus's shoulders for appearances sake. Sirius walked in front, stopping in front of a long counter where a bored-looking, middle aged man stood reading the_ Daily Prophet_.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, barely taking his eyes off the article he was reading.

"We would like to get a room, please," Sirius said politely. The man looked up in surprise, as if hadn't heard that sentence in quite a while... though that was improbably, seeing he worked at the reception desk of an Inn. He sized them up silently, and the same sympathetic look Harry had seen on the thief's face from before came over it. Harry wondered if they just had really bad rooms, or something.

"With or without magical theft protection and alarms?" He asked in a voice that suggested this question was as normal as asking if they wanted a view of the town, or the expanse of grassy plain outside the tall gates surrounding the town. Sirius turned uncertainly to Harry. Harry gave a small shake of his head. He didn't trust him to be truthful on the actual protection. Plus, he could easily protect them better than what was offered.

"No thank you," Sirius replied. He sized them up again, looking a bit incredulous. "Are you sure? I'm sure you know, this town is notorious for its thieves."

"Enough of that, young man! We would like our keys now if you please!" He rasped, looking up at the surprised man with an obstinate look.

"If you say so..." the man said, finally backing down and waving his wand to summon a pair of keys from under the table. "Here you go. You three are in room 18."

"Thank you, young man," Sirius said, nodding politely and turning around. Harry, however, was not quite done. Turning down to Remus, who was trying not to laugh at Harry and Sirius's acts, he gave the five year old a stern look. "Gavin, what do you say?" Harry prompted.

Remus looked confused and taken aback by this turn of events. "...huh?" He replied intelligently. Harry gave him a slightly condescending look.

"Gavin..." He drew out his name. Remus finally seemed to get it and (after glaring at Harry with a contenance promising retribution) turned to the man innocently and said,

"Thank 'oo!" smiling toothily all the while. The man smiled back, and tossed Remus a red lollypop from behind the counter with the air of someone passing on something illegal.

"Your welcome, little guy. Here's a lolly for your manners." He said, grinning as if sharing a secret with Remus - who was stuck between looking lovingly at the red candy in his hands, and keeping his (though scant, due to his current form) dignity.

"Thanks, mister!" He said loudly, still keeping up his act. Ripping the wrapper off, he stuck it in his mouth and waddled happily away towards the winding staircase on the other side of the bar area. Sirius gave the man working there a constrained smile, and followed Remus out - Harry trailing behind in a crotchety manner.

When Harry reached their room a good minute or two behind his companions (keeping up appearances of arthritis), he found a pouting, regular-sized Remus (lollypop still stuck out of the corner of his mouth) being laughed at by Sirius, who was supporting himself by clasping his hand onto a shaking knee. Harry rolled his eyes. Only they would find Remus's acquisition of a candy so humorous.

Shutting the door behind himself quickly, so Remus and Sirius's real forms would not be compromised by nosy residents, Harry entered room 18. The second he closed and locked the door, he retracted his wand out from inside his pocket and turned himself back into his normal, early-twenties form. Shortly after, he turned it to the door and began murmuring incantations under his breath - securing them away from the world so no one would be able to come in.

A minute or so later, the bottom of all the walls in their humbly-sized hotel room glowed blue for a second, before returning to their normal non-incandescent look. Remus gave one last glare at Sirius (whose laughter was finally faltering) and walked over to Harry.

"What spell was that?" Remus inquired curiously, eyeing the bottom of the wall as if expecting it to glow once again.

"A few, actually," Harry replied, looking satisfied with his spell work. He went on to explain the three more relevant ones to Remus, who had taken a small notepad out and charmed an eagle feather quill to take copious notes. Sirius had gotten half interested when Harry had mentioned "flame-proof," and wandered over, much to Remus's exasperation.

Time passed slowly for Harry, Sirius and Remus as they stayed safely (yet boringly) holed up in their room. Other than Harry's brief trip out into the market to retrieve various supplies, they had stayed inside the entire time; not even venturing out to eat dinner - choosing to order room service instead.

It was a novel experience, Harry decided, to be on a life-threatening hunt (though, admittedly, he'd been on a lot of life threatening hunts) and not have to be roughing it in the woods. It seemed a bit surreal that they were just sitting on their beds - two more of which had been conjured, and... well... _hanging out_, for lack of better term.

Remus, to the amused scorn of Sirius, was studiously beginning to work through a dauntingly large pile of homework he'd collected from his professors for their expedition. Sirius, on the other hand, was tinkering around with a small model-version of what seemed to be a flying motorcycle, and a flying car, which he was charming bash into each other repeatedly in mid air.

Harry himself was playing around with the laptop Dumbledore had given him, and the cell phone. To Harry's amusement, he'd realized that the five-number password that Dumbledore had given him to open the cell-phone compartment spelled out "H-A-R-R-Y" in numerals. _Good old Dumbledore... _Harry thought in a pleasant train of thought.

Finally, the three went to sleep, the day still ringing in a startlingly anticlimactic way.

The next day began on an irate note. Apparently, Harry's self-drawn wards had blasted the cleaning woman back a good five feet into the wall that morning when she had tried to come into their room to change the linens. They had been woken at 9:30am by a very pissed manager knocking loudly on their door; annoyed about both the cleaning lady (who claimed to have a concussion, though Harry thought it more likely she was milking it for the paid vacation that came with work-related injury) and the fact that Harry's spells had caused his key not to work on their door.

Sirius had been arguing with him the last five minutes without either side budging an inch.

"-my right as a paying customer!" Sirius finished, still glaring at the manager. Harry had to admit Sirius was an extremely good actor. "And if you and your upstart employees think you can stop me from sleeping safe in my bed at night then I'll sue!" This, of course, was an utterly empty threat. The last thing they had time for at the present was suing some random hotel owner.

"Exactly! You are a paying customer, under _my_ roof!" The manager retorted vehemently, pointing one chubby finger at the ceiling to personify his words. "On _my_ land, you keep to _my_ rules, and that is final!" Sirius opened his wrinkled mouth to retaliate, but the beefy manager wouldn't let him. "You know what? Get out!"

Sirius blinked, obviously not expecting that. "Wha...?" He said in a momentary lapse of dignity as a "senior citizen." The manager looked pleased with himself for causing Sirius's taken aback behavior.

"That's right," he repeated smugly. "Get out! Hand me your key now." Sirius glared even harder at the slightly taller man, and stiffly handed him the key. "You have fifteen minutes to be out of this door."

"I want my money back!" Sirius spit - quite literally spraying the man with spittle. The man's expression contorted into a grimace as he wiped the globules off his puce face. Sirius smirked a bit - the spit, of course, having been entirely intentional.

"You most certainly will _not_ get your money back!" The manager said, still withholding the upper hand. "_You're_ the one who gave _my_ employee a concussion! You should be paying me!"

Sirius snorted, but made no reply - settling for slamming the door in the manager's face. Still hearing the angered exclamations and rude knocks from the other side, Sirius turned around and released the Glamour charm he'd put on himself. Remus and Harry did the same - their faces expressing a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"You just had to get us kicked out of the hotel, didn't you, Padfoot?" Remus said sarcastically, walking to the bathroom to retrieve his toiletries. Sirius spluttered.

"We were going to leave in a few hours, anyways!" He hollered after him, causing Harry to grin a bit. It was true, they had been planning on checking out of the hotel in about three hours. However, it wasn't like he could miss out on giving Sirius grief about it.

"Still, Sirius," he said, as straight-faced as possible. "You've just given us a bad rep in a thieves town. That's not easy to do." Harry shook his head in a faux-disapproving manner. Again, Sirius choked in anger and embarrassment - face reddening from the truth of the statement.

"But-" he began again, trying to find a response, but failing. He finally gave a sigh, realizing nothing he could say could make any point in their argument. "... fine..." he muttered as he wandered poutingly over to his bed to pick up the seeming explosion of his stuff on and around it.

They were ready to leave in a mere eight minutes or so after Sirius had slammed the door in the manager's face. Bags packed, stuff stowed, and a whole bunch of "triple-checks" later (which left Harry groaning - as he was the only one used to packing on a seconds' notice), they were out the door in their respective disguises.

They walked down the stairs at a leisurely pace, Harry once again making up the caboose of their procession with his supposedly bad hips. They reached the bottom bar area and check-in room. A couple customers were present, though they were few and far between. The same employee who had checked them in the first time still sat on a stool behind the counter, looking bored. He smiled at them as they left, commenting,

"Short stay?" When they didn't answer, he continued, "Well, have a nice day anyways!" Remus - who was pretending not to know what was going on, the young kid that he was - managed to exhort another lollypop (blue, this time) before exiting with a devious smile.

As it had been inside the _Broken Broomstick Inn and Tavern_, the streets of Linyard Cross were nearly deserted. So much so it had gotten a bit creepy. Surrounded by sixteenth-century style houses and professions, Harry almost expected people to have signs up claiming that their houses were under quarantine because of the Black Plague... _Though,_ he admitted, _that wouldn't make sense as the Black Plague itself happened in the 1300's. _

Harry looked quickly up to the highest window in a nearby building - one of the taller ones in the settlement. Immediately, the wooden shutter closed with an audible (with Harry's enhanced hearing, at least, though Sirius and Remus didn't seem to hear it) "CLACK!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. This was entirely to reminiscent of that one Muggle movie called "Littie-Littie-Lang-Lang," or "Kitty-kitty-kang-kang" or something along those lines, with scene about the rather disturbingly brightly colored child-catcher. Not that Harry had really watched more than that scene and another before Aunt Petunia had dragged him away into his cupboard screeching that he might be "influenced" by it. Harry hadn't understood then, though he now realized she probably thought he would preform accidental magic and make their car fly or something or other... though why she wouldn't want a flying car was beyond him.

But he was getting off topic.

"Harry!" Sirius whispered, poking Harry a bit. Harry winced, rubbing his arm. Sirius kept on forgetting about his overly-sensitive sense of touch... "I think we should leave. _Now_." Sirius's eyes darted around the square where they were standing with a look of paranoia. Not that Harry blamed him. Their current surroundings did much to induce paranoia.

"Seconded," Harry whispered back, making sure he was loud enough for Remus to hear from his reduced height. "I think this way's the fastest to the main gate."

They hurried their pace towards the gate; Sirius and Remus dutifully following Harry thought the streets, only seeing a total of about eight people the entire time they navigate the previously-bustling village. Harry's heart was pounding, though he didn't know why. Normally, a little creepiness wouldn't be enough to send his adrenaline into overdrive like this... something was wrong. For them, at least.

Again, Harry sped up, taking unnecessary twists and turns in their route as if to loose some unseen stalker. Finally, the large gate was in sight. Harry let out a sigh of relief, and he could hear Sirius and Remus doing the same beside him.

"There it is!" Sirius said rather redundantly, pointing to the obvious stone and wood structure. But as they did, Harry's spine tingled. As they drew closer, they saw something that they couldn't see on their way in, engraved in large gothic letters on the back side of the arch. Harry's blood ran cold. Sirius gasped next to him.

_He who enters stays without a trace_

_Hidden within this accursed place_

_Years and minutes into one_

_Time lost in heaven, discreetly undone_

_Your path was destined, your fate foretold_

_That your future would here unfold_

_And here you will stay, forever on_

_'Till broken riddle moves you beyond_

_These star-crossed arches, broken doors_

_Shall be your prison; your unyielding floors_

_A choice is needed, a chance you must take_

_To break yourself from your grave mistake_

_If leave, you must, then answer me this,_

_If its answer on yourself you wish:_

_I never was, am always to be,_

_No one ever saw me, nor ever will_

_And yet I am the confidence of all_

_To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball._

Harry saw red. So unless he answered this riddle, he was stuck here forever? Great. Just great. _This fits in just _perfectly_ to my idea of how the Horcrux hunt would go... and here I was thinking we might actually have a semi-normal day! _He thought sarcastically. _Not to mention that this explains why this place is so dated, and the apologetic looks. All these people have been here for God only knows how long!_

Wearily, Harry turned to his friends - feeling strangely tired, despite having woken up barely an hour ago.

"We have to try to answer the riddle," he said. "If there's one thing we can't afford, it's to be hung up here, much less for all eternity." Not to Harry's surprise, no one argued with him. They seemed to have already started working on it. Harry smiled, and quickly conjured three chairs - two large, and one kid-sized. He sat down. _If I'm going to work on something that will surely change the future, I may as well be comfortable,_ he thought. He turned his attention to the first line.

'I never was, am always to be.'

"Well that's clear..." Harry muttered to himself. Who actually did this kind of stuff as a hobby! _Anyways, back on subject. That would mean it's something in the future, or nonexistent... maybe "nothing"? No... there are more than one things that will never happen. Next line. _

_'No one ever saw me, nor ever will.' _Harry perched his chin onto his palm in a thinking position. _Well, that just reaffirms my theory that it's something in the future, though it also suggests that it's not tangible. I guess "nothing" is officially out... even nothing can be seen, in theory. _

Harry turned his attention back to the riddle. _'And yet I am in the confidence of all.' _This one made absolutely no sense to Harry. Would that mean it was, like, the elusive, stalking, invisible therapist, or what? He decided to skip this one.

And finally, '_To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.' _This part didn't give much away... only that it wasn't something from outer space. Harry turned his head. Sirius and Remus looked deep in thought, but didn't seem to be having any epiphanies.

_So,_ he recapped, _it's something non-tangible, from the future - and not in outer space_.

_What's non-tangible?_ He wondered._ Even air is tangible... so it has to be an... idea, or a word? A word or idea in the future... _Harry's mind immediately jumped to Star Wars, though he rejected the idea just as soon as he came across it. His mind whirred. Was it possible that he, the first person ever to time travel back in time more than a few hours was fated to complete this riddle, with his knowledge of the future?

For a second, his hopes were lifted. However, his own realistic point of view crashed it just as quickly. _That wouldn't make any sense. If it was something about the _actual_ future instead of metaphorically, then people twenty years from now would be able to solve it without me. After all, it won't stay the 70s forever - thank God. _

Then, suddenly, he remembered something. _What had the line just before the riddle itself said? 'If its answer on yourself you wish?' Did that mean that whatever the answer was, he wanted it? What did he want?_ Nothing came to mind. He decided to go along another track of thought.

_What's a word meaning the future?_ He thought, finally getting the feeling that he was getting somewhere. _'Next?' 'Future?' 'Later?' _No... he dashed the thoughts yet again. _Those aren't specific enough. It would have to be, like, 'next week,' or 'tomorrow.'_

And then, Harry's heart jolted - practically giving him a heart attack. _Tomorrow!_ He thought, completely sure of his answer. _The answer is 'Tomorrow.' It all fits! If I want to get out of here and unstop time in this little time-sticky-zone thingy, then I want to go to tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't a thing, and it's always in the future, never to be seen!_

"Haha!" Harry shouted loudly and exuberantly, leaping off his chair and sending it crashing to the cobbled road with a crash that send Remus and Sirius jumping out of their's with fright, half-drawing their wands. "I figured it out!" Harry said in his old-woman voice, belatedly remembering his disguise. Immediately, Sirius and Remus's faces blossomed disbelieving and delighted expressions.

"Really?" Sirius said, grinning broadly.

"The answer is, 'Tomorrow,'" Harry answered, a bit proud that he had been the one to figure it out.

Remus gave a sigh of relief. "How do we... input the answer, so it knows?"

Harry frowned. He hadn't thought of that... he stepped closer to the stone archway, squinting up at its weather-worn sides and ancient lettering. His eyes worked their way slowly down to the end of the right side, taking in each particular brick and cracking piece of mortar.

"I dunno..." he finally answered reluctantly. "Any ideas?" Harry asked hopefully. Sirius looked baffled. He was no slouch, that was for certain (he _was_ nearly up to par with James, Remus and Lily for top of the class) but this wasn't his area of expertise. From Harry's months learning with him in the classroom, he'd realized the Sirius was something of a on-the-spot genius. He was a brilliant battle strategist, and excellent at using people's strengths for his advantage. However, this was all too similar to a written test for him to excel at.

_Remus, on the other hand, is the polar opposite... _he thought, however, he was cut off by a cry at only backed up what he had been thinking.

"I've got it!" Remus said, gazing wide-eyed at the brick on the lower left side. "See that protruding brick there?" He asked rhetorically, pointing to a brick at the bottom of the archway. "And that one over there?" He pointed to the same place on the other side. "Along with the riddle on the top, those form an _Occultus Setentia_ triangle, an ancient way of creating a message in around 100 B.C." Remus walked over to left part of the arch and squatted down, examining the brick. "If I'm right, which I'm pretty sure I am due to these markings, then we should say the answer when both are pressed into the arch, and then it'll let us through."

Sirius and Harry stared at him uncomprehendingly. Both, of course, understood what he had said, but they were at a complete loss as to how he'd even known this about the _Occultus Setentia_ triangle, much less its origins and how to use it.

"How..." Sirius began weakly, looking at Remus as though he were about as familiar as a martian. "How did you..."

"We talked about it last year in History of Magic class, Sirius," Remus said dryly. Sirius blushed a bit and chuckled, trying to save face.

"Heh... I knew that! It's just..." he stopped speaking, unable to think of a good excuse.

"Sure you knew that, Padfoot," Harry said briskly, walking over to the other end of the entryway, and donned his commander frame of mind. "Sirius!" He barked, causing the younger teen to jump a bit. "When Remus and I press in the bricks, you say our answer. You remember it, right?"

"'Tomorrow,'" Sirius said, reaffirming that he did indeed remember the password. Harry nodded, and turned his attention back to Remus - their resident arch expert. "Ready, Remus?" He asked with anticipation. Remus nodded, and Harry could hear him gulp. "On three. One... Two... THREE!"

Without further delay, both Remus and Harry heaved their entire bodyweight into the jutting bricks - slamming them back into the arch with a highly annoying screechy-grinding noise. A wind picked up the second both were fully in, seeming to grab at Harry's robes, trying to pull him away from his station where he was pressing it into the arch. There was a crack of thunder above them, and Harry (with his intense hearing) had to force himself not to clap his hands over his ears. The sky darkened, a few black clouds marring the otherwise beautiful sky just above them.

"TOMORROW!" Sirius cried, sounding panicked. "THE ANSWER TO THE RIDDLE IS TOMORROW!"

No sooner had he said the answer, then Harry threw his hands off the brick and onto the sides of his head to try to stop the booming thunder which was still shaking the sky and earth around him.

This proved to be a mistake. The wind still blowing fiercely into an almost tornado-like tunnel up into the clouds, Harry had no sooner let his fingers loosen from the brick then he was tossed high into the air like a rag doll - thrown about on a whim by the forces of nature.

Twenty-five feet... Forty feet... Fifty-five feet... Harry watched in helpless horror as the ground flew further and further away from him.

"AARRRGGHH!" He yelled in abandon, squeezing his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around his head as the wind and bits of broken tree branches whipped him mercilessly and painfully. Then, suddenly, in a turn of events that (for the second time that day) nearly caused him to have heart failure - the wind stopped.

The clouds vanished. The branches fell. And with them, so did Harry.

**End of Chapter**


	21. Haunted Houses

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

A/N: Enjoy! Also, for those of you who didn't get it last chapter - the riddle thing with the arch didn't mean that it fast forwarded time, but that it just kept the people in the town the same age while the rest of the world moved on around them.

_Chapter Twenty-One: Haunted Houses_

When Harry was young and living at Privet Drive, he used to have painfully clear dreams of falling twice per week, at a bare minimum. He would be in a plane (or what he imagined it to be like, as the Dursleys just pawned him off to neighbors when they were gone), and then suddenly, the ground would fall out right beneath him - and no one else.

He would fall and fall and fall and fall further than was probably possible. Finally, he would reach the ground, but the dream wouldn't stop there. He would hit the ground, and though he didn't feel pain, his mind would float away. He would see his broken body laying on the ground in a disembodied manner. Then, he would awaken, sweating profusely.

Now, as he fell at what felt like impossible speeds towards the inescapable ground, it felt different. He wasn't falling for ages. He was falling at what felt like the speed of light, faster than anything had ever fallen before. His heart was in his throat, pulsing at the speed of a cheetah on steroids. His mind seemed to be fried; he was unable to think clearly.

_What should I do?_ He thought rapidly, panicking as he automatically grasped at his wand, but then his thoughts would revert back to: _Ohmygodohmygodohcrapohcrap!_

When he finally got a good grip on his wand, having retrieved it over the course of what had felt like both forever and just a portion of a second, his mind was faced with an entirely new dilemma. _What spell am I going to use?_ He wondered, still holding back an extremely un-manly scream as he descended.

Strangely, the first spell that popped up into his head was Expecto Patronum. He guessed he was just used to using it in bad (DEADLY!) situations such as this. His mind was screeching at himself to get a move on it. He was running out of time... what could he do!

Finally, he decided he couldn't hold off any longer. He was barely 100 feet from the ground, and he was falling fast. Just a few more seconds... Barely thinking, Harry waved his wand and pointed at the ground.

"NOVOLECTUS!" He yelled, leaving the words behind in the sky as he plummeted. Only fifty feet... forty feet... twenty-five... ten... Harry squeezed his eyes closed and curled up into a fetal-like position, ready for extreme impact... but it didn't come.

Then, he hit the ground.

_Well, not the ground, exactly_, he realized. _But I hit _something_. What spell did I even use, anyways? _His body hurt, but he could already tell he was nowhere near dead or even grievously injured. His body contorted strangely as he was unexpectedly thrown back up into the air. Harry's eyes snapped open - half confused, and half thanking his lucky gods that whatever he had done, it had kept him from... well, dying.

Again, he fell down and bounced up a little bit - for a shorter distance this time. It repeated over and over again; Harry being bounced up and down for an increasingly short time. Finally, it stopped.

For a minute, Harry just laid there - breathing so deeply he could see his chest moving out of his peripheral vision. His heart was calming a bit, though its predominant thought still seemed to be: "_ohmygodthankgodI'msafe_."

Finally, Harry mustered up enough strength (in both a physical and mental manner) to sit up and look around. When he finally realized what he had conjured, he thought he'd gone crazy. He was sitting on a 15x40-foot version of his bed at Hogwarts. Red and gold coverlet, embroidered pillows and all. He even recognized the little chip on the left side where Sirius had fallen onto it two months ago.

Harry sighed. Who conjured a bed when trying to catch their fall? Even a trampoline would have been more normal, with all the portrayals of trampoline-catches in muggle cartoons. But a bed? And a gigantic, perfect copy of his at Hogwarts? Absolutely crazy. _Loco_.

After a few seconds of staring at the (still extremely comfortable) covers of his bed in confusion, Harry finally lifted his head up a bit more and looked at his surroundings in a broader sense. The wind had carried him what seemed like just a little less than a mile from Linyard Cross into an area almost resembling a desert - if there even _were_ deserts in England. To his right, he could see the town itself, with ant-like people milling all around it in confusion. A few particular "ants" seemed to be approaching at a fast pace, one significantly smaller (though faster) than the other.

Harry stared at them as they drew closer.

"Remus? Sirius?" He muttered, finally recognizing their panicked and gasping features as they reached only fifty feet away.

"HAARRRRYYYY!" Remus yelled, Sirius barking in accent. Turning back from his dog form when he was a scant few yards away from the edge of the bed. Now in his human-form, Sirius could not speak, just continuing to gasp, trying to catch his breath. Barely a second after Sirius leaped up onto Harry's conjured bed, Remus appeared, having levitated himself up. Remus looked significantly less tired than Harry - stamina being one of the few and far between perks of being a werewolf, Harry knew - though he was still breathing hard, leaning his hands on his knees for support.

"Harry!" He finally said. "A-Are you okay?" Remus looked Harry up and down with hurried, critical eyes; eyeing him for any broken bones or the like.

"No, no, I'm fine..." Harry assured him. "What happened back at the village?"

Remus managed a grin between deep breaths. "We practically stirred a village-wide party! There are people who have been there for nearly two thousand years, and you set them free, Harry. I think its safe to say you're allowed back into the _Broken Broomstick Bar and Inn_ again."

Harry smiled exhaustedly, still not up to being 100% chipper after his fall. "Glad to hear it," he replied. Together, the three sat on the gigantic bed - each tired for separate reasons. For over ten minutes, they lay in peace, staring listlessly at the beautiful sky above them. Now that it had calmed down from its earlier storm clouds, a enchanting cerulean sky had appeared - fluffy white clouds being pushed along slowly like boats on a river.

It was Sirius who broke the comfortable silence, for once with a humorless remark. "We should go now. Little Hangleton is about four miles from here."

"You have our things, right?" Harry checked. Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, they're shrunk inside my pocket," the dog animagus replied.

Harry nodded, sitting up with some effort. "Since you have our things, then yeah, we need to get there soon. I want to carefully examine the wards and spells before we even begin to _think_ of infiltrating the Gaunt House to get the ring. When Dumbledore got it, he practically received a death sentence." Harry's face grew troubled. This was one of the few places that he didn't have much background information on during their hunt, as he'd never been there himself other than in a memory.

In addition to this problem, there was the fact that Dumbledore had failed to mention specifically what spell had caused his hand to be so withered. Of course, Harry knew not to put on the Stone of Resurrection, but he was certain there would be at least a minor Compulsion Charm on it.

After vanishing the bed with a Banishing Charm (in order to prevent strange news stories, if not more troubling outcomes), Harry, Remus and Sirius set off yet again.

Now that they had passed all possibly deterring Muggle settlements, Harry gave the "OK" to Apparate the rest of the trip, much to Remus and Sirius's gratitude. True, they were both strong and would never have complained, but they simply weren't used to hard, manual labor, Sirius in particular. Though he no longer lived with them, Sirius had grown up in a Pureblood household with extremely biased views about what Purebloods should and shouldn't do. They hadn't exactly pushed endurance in "Muggle" transportation.

Sure, Sirius had broken away from the rest of the Black family, and sure he was in Gryffindor, but he hadn't quite wiped all of their egotistical habits from himself.

With a muted, "POP!" they arrived two blocks down from the Gaunt House. Harry didn't doubt that they had at least minimal Apparition-wards. This _was_ Voldemort, after all. He was probably the most egotistical... _thing_ Harry had ever met (which was saying something), and he didn't believe that anyone would be able to figure out his deepest secret - the Horcruxes. However, that didn't mean he was stupid about protecting them.

Senses on high-alert, Sirius, Remus, and Harry approached the grim looking house.

The Gaunt House wasn't quite like Harry remembered it from the memory Dumbledore had acquired. The small, dismal house was settled in a rather large plot of tall, dead grass that reached up to almost Harry's thigh - though he didn't yet walk in. The roofing of the Gaunt House, which Harry remembered to be tiled in a sinister green, were now covered in nearly a foot of moss and debris. It was a miracle it hadn't fallen through, though Harry suspected it was held up by magic.

Just visible behind the house was a gigantic, hulking, dead oak tree - its waist-thick branches spreading out of the trunk like a giant's hand protruding from the earth. Acorns were scattered pell mell all around, many having been blown into the street where Harry, Remus and Sirius now stood.

In short, it looked like the Haunted House of nightmares, despite the fact that somebody had taken down the snake carcass that had been pinned to the doorway – a small improvement.

"Blimey," Remus said a little weakly. "They really weren't much for decorating, were they?" Harry gave a small snort of laughter at Remus's words. They were exactly the sort of thing he could imagine Ron saying, to the tee.

"No kidding," Harry replied. Then, Harry's heart skipped unpleasantly as Sirius took a step forward unthinkingly towards the house. "STOP!" He yelled, panicking. Sirius halted immediately.

"What? What happened?" He asked, looking around him as if expecting to see dozens of Death Eaters crowding them like a black, wand-carrying wall.

"Don't go in there!" Harry yelled, louder and harsher than was usual. "Don't you remember what I told you? Whether he be dead or not, Voldemort created the defense mechanism for this place. We can't afford for you to do things rashly, Sirius!"

Sirius looked at Harry wide-eyed, taken aback at Harry's scolding.

"I... I'm s-sorry-" Sirius began, stuttering in a feeble mentality that didn't suit him. But Harry wasn't in the mood for being magnanimous.

"Yes, you should be sorry, Sirius. And so would we if you got hurt - or even died!" Harry said, speaking in a low, even voice that radiated command. "You are my friends, and in these situations, by fellow combatants, but you have to_ think. Before. You act._"

Sirius gulped wordlessly, more than a little bit frightened by Harry's intense tone and expression. Remus as well looked unnerved, and glad Harry's attention wasn't focused on him. However, that was not to last. Harry turned his head over to the fidgety werewolf.

"Remus, you need the polar opposite," Harry said - causing Remus to gain a confused and slightly put out look on his face. "You analyze things too thoroughly, and in doing so put off action. I'm not saying that you need to be completely instinctual in your actions, but allow yourself to trust your intuition."

Remus nodded slowly, taking in his advice with self-critical analysis that Harry was thankful for. Not many people were able to be nit-picky about themselves, and if Remus was unable to do that it could change the outcome of their task.

"One last thing. In other places and scenarios, we are equal. As students, thinkers, and a whole lot more. In some places, Sirius is better than Remus and I; and in others Remus is better. However, right not is _none of those times_." Harry said quietly, staring at it with a single minded concentration as if sizing it up. "Right now, in the heat of battle, _I _am the one giving the commands, the leader. You will follow what I say."

"Yes sir," Sirius and Remus agreed together, looking stony-faced. Harry looked at them pensively. He knew them too well to think they would follow his word even when the situation seemed like it would not benefit. That was both a good, and a bad thing. They weren't mindless drones - suited only to follow orders. But on the negative side, they could make bad decisions with information or beliefs that weren't accurate. They needed one last push... and then Harry had an idea. He smirked nearly imperceptibly. _It's time to take a leaf of of Dumbledore's book... _

"If I tell you to attack something, you attack it." They nodded without a second thought. "If I tell you to grab the Horcrux and leave me to fight, you will do it." This time, they didn't seem so sure, taking a glance at the other before seeming to remember that this was the person who had killed Voldemort. _Twice._ They nodded in ascent. "If I tell you to leave me and run as far away as you can, _you will do it_."

Now, they weren't so sure at all.

"But, Harry-" Sirius started, sounding worried.

"But nothing!" Harry interrupted vehemently. "One life is no blip on the radar when speaking about thousands." Neither Sirius nor Remus seemed able to come up with a good response to that. Taking their silence in stride, Harry once again lifted his wand and pointed it at the house. "_Probator Periculum_," he whispered.

Instantly, large, wavering lines appeared branching out around the house like a cobweb placed around it. They varied in color - each more deadly looking than the last as they worked their way towards the house, which had no curses within about a five-foot radius from the walls.

Harry gulped.

"What's that?" Remus asked curiously, though still somber from their discussion barely a few seconds ago.

"Those are the protective spells Voldemort has placed on this house," Harry replied, eliciting a gasp from both Remus and Sirius. "The purple ones are wards meant to be broken by special runes, or Dark magic. The rest of the colors are deadly spells, meant to kill or maim those who walk into their designated places.

Sirius gave a gulp, and stepped back from the acidic green band of magic he had been barely two steps away from stepping on.

"Can we even get _in_?" Remus asked, his face aghast as he looked at the complicated myriad of interwoven spells.

"Dumbledore did," Harry replied seriously, still eyeing the house. "And we will too. It's not impossible, just complicated." Harry starting walking slowly around the perimeter of the land, looking at the house with calculating eyes. "The easiest ones to get rid of will be the curse spells, meant to injure intruders. All curses have a counter curse, except for the Unforgivables, they they are impossible to place sedentary as protection..."

...o0O0o...

Nearly three hours had passed since Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Harry Potter had approached the Gaunt House with the intention of stealing one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. In that time, Harry had given the other two a hurried lesson on the basic mechanics of Curse Breaking (a lecture which he had originally received from Bill Weasley), and set them to work taking away the more elementary wards, which were (admittedly) few and far between.

Voldemort had a fetish for the complicated, and impressive looking spells and wards, it seemed.

Meanwhile, Harry was hard at work cracking the more complicated wards and spells. Like he'd suspected, the sedentary spells Riddle had placed, though disturbingly deadly - even for Voldemort - weren't that hard to nix. Once again, the (now deceased) Dark Lord seemed to think he was the only person capable of having the foresight to look for spells. However, the wards were another matter altogether, and Harry highly suspected he'd forced a Curse Breaker to place them.

Harry studied one of said wards with distaste, stepping as close to its spidery strands of woven magic as he could without starting to look behind his back to make sure no one was going to push him.

In the last three hours, Harry had destroyed four of the seven wards placed around the Gaunt House, and Remus and Sirius's combined efforts had eliminated two more. This was the last one, and was proving to be the most complicated. Slowly, they had advanced closer and closer to the house as they vetoed spell after spell, ward after ward.

Now magically exhausted, Remus and Sirius sat collapsed in an unruly heap in the tall, dead grass surrounding the plot. Harry, on the other hand, had an unusually large magical reserve - over tripling what was average for his age; a fact he'd learned from an astonished Madame Pomfrey of his time. This, she'd suspected, was another effect of Voldemort's very first attack on Harry and his (them alive) parents.

But despite the fact that his reserves were superhumanly large, Harry's body was the same as a normal human. Harry's eyes hurt from concentrating, and his head and stomach almost equally so. This pain was only intensified by his over-sensitive sense of touch, which turned an unpleasant eyelash-in-the-eye feeling, into full out rubbing-your-eye-with-your-fist-which-infects-your-eye-giving-you-pinkeye pain.

Not for the first time, Harry cursed himself for not having the foresight to place protective Charms on himself before he'd destroyed the diadem.

Fueled by his rage at himself and the world in general, Harry's magic (which he had been steadily flowing into the ward) grew stronger. Finally, with a "click"-ing sound disproportionate to how important relieving this ward was to the tide of Harry's life, the ward seemed to blur into a purple haze... before flashing once and vanishing.

Harry grinned in triumph and was just about to turn and get Remus and Sirius up, but found them fully awake and getting up.

"I got rid of the last ward," Harry said redundantly, a bit proud of himself.

"Apparently!" Remus said, stepping closer and eyeing the place where the ward had been with the air of a scientist approaching a particularly interesting concoction. "What did you do?" He asked, waving his hand in and out of the area quickly, to make sure if was gone.

"It would take too long to explain now," Harry replied, putting his robe back on from where he had discarded it a half an hour ago. "Later, maybe."

Remus nodded in agreement. Then, without another word on the matter, Sirius, Remus and Harry started walking slowly towards the rickety house - wands aloft. Harry had prepped them before they'd finished taking apart the wards that the inside would be different - protection wise. Reflecting Harry's words, Remus and Sirius looked as jumpy as jackrabbits.

Waving his wand once and doing another detection spell (just to make sure he hadn't missed any wards), Harry stepped cautiously onto the front step. The old stairs, covered with mostly scraped off whitewash, creaked under his feet. Harry winced at the noise, as if there were some animal inside he was trying not to wake. Taking a small confidence in that he hadn't been hit with a killing curse out of nowhere yet, Harry put his whole body weight on the first step and crept up onto the landing, keeping a firm grip on the metal siderail just in case the derelict steps steps fell through.

When their whole party had reached the small porch area, they stood quietly; alert. Once again, Harry waved his wand and muttered various enchantments - checking from everything to more wards (which he dreaded, by now), to spells ready to break the wood beneath his feet. None of which he found, to his apprehension.

As he had told Remus and Sirius - he suspected that the inside of the house would be no where near as heavily protected as the outside. Simply put, Harry knew Voldemort was far too complacent to actually consider that someone would be able to get through the wards. Harry was sure the Dark Lord was turning over in his high security morgue-box deep within the bowels of the Department of Ministries.

After unlocking the door with a slightly more complex version of the _Alohamora _charm, he opened with door - a resounding creak echoing within the dark house.

"_Luminaris Orbis!_" Sirius whispered, pointing his hawthorne wand into the pitch-black recesses of the house... which was looking more and more like a shack by the second. Immediately, seven spherical balls of light shot out of his wand and flew around in a flurry of light. After a second of psychedelic confusion, the winking lights finally became stationary in evenly spaces about the low ceiling.

As Harry's eyes adjusted to the newfound sources of light, he took in his surroundings.

In short, he had stepped into the stereotypical haunted house of some of the more inventive muggle horror films. The uneven walls were covered with ripped wallpaper colored an ugly brown. In a few places, it was covered with a redder substance which Harry hoped, though doubted, was dragon blood. In the center of the roughly rectangular room there was a large circular table with three chairs crowded around it - _for Marvolo, Morfin, and Merope Gaunt_, he realized with a shiver.

Besides that, it was furnished with a sparsity verging on Spartan. The room seemed to hold the place as the living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one. In the corner, near the window (which was covered with so much dust and spider webs that Harry couldn't even see light coming through) stood a rusted sink, three cupboards with cheap doors hanging off broken hinges and a single, moldy towel laid messily across the countertop.

Speaking of mold, Harry realized, this whole place is covered with it! Harry crinkled his nose. It was true. On the table, there were two half eaten meals consisting of an unrecognizable substance covered in at least two centimeters worth of green and white mold, not to mention the dust.

Remus sneezed beside Harry, and Harry followed suit barely a second after.

"They weren't much for cleanliness, were they?" Remus commented rhetorically, eyeing the food on the table with distaste. Neither Harry nor Sirius answered, feeling their affirmation was unnecessary.

"Come on, this way," Harry directed, stepping through the inches thick dust, causing small flurries of it to dance around his feet - muffling his footsteps. Harry was walking towards one of the two doors in the room, not including the main entrance which they had walked in from. Upon reaching it, Harry slashed his wand through the air, nonverbally sending a Disruption Spell through the door.

On the other side, they could see flashing lights of different colors (primarily acidic green and yellow) flashing from the crack under the door. Sirius and Remus looked adequately alarmed by this turn of events.

"Harry, wha-" Sirius started, but Harry answered before he'd even fully voiced his question.

"I sent a Disruption Spell in so that all motion-sensing Sedentary Spells placed inside were set off, eliminating most of the ring's protection." Remus and Sirius looked extremely impressed. Harry could practically see Remus filing the idea away inside his mind for later use. "Get ready," Harry warned, and Sirius and Remus did so, returning to their serious states. Without another word, Harry sent the same unlocking spell at the door handle. This time, it swung open without any warning - at an unnatural speed without being pushed.

Harry's instincts screamed bloody murder.

"EVERYONE DOWN!" Harry bellowed, falling to the ground with a lack sense of self-preservation that sent the floorboards rattling eerily. Sirius fell barely a second after, and Remus quite a few later, choking back exclamations of pain. Harry's heart dropped into his stomach. _Is Remus.._. but he could hardly finish the thought.

"Moony!" Sirius cried, scooting over to him but not rising. "What happened?"

"The s-spell..." Remus gasped out, clutching his right upper arm with vitality. "It hit my arm... but it's just a flesh wound. It'll be... I'll be fine." Sirius didn't look at all convinced and managed to pry Remus's tight fingers off his arm. Harry gasped at the sight.

It wasn't by far the worst spell-inflicted wound he'd ever seen, he had seen too many of those for that to be the case, but it was quite obviously by far the worst for Sirius. A jagged laceration had swiped deep into his arm, going so far as to bite into his bone. An unnatural amount of blood was pouring out, dripping in individual rivers down to his limp wrist. Worst of all was the inside of the flesh where the spell had torn through. Instead of the healthy red color, it was slowly but surely turning a noxious, deep purple before their eyes.

Sirius's face went a little green as he swallowed a small bit of sick that had risen into his throat. Sirius immediately turned to Harry with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Harry...?" He said helplessly, leaving the question unsaid. Harry nodded grimly.

"I can fix it most of the way, though we'll need to find an official Mediwitch later to fight off infection and take away any lasting effects," the Man-Who-Conquered replied, rolling up his robe sleeves. "Sirius!"

"Yeah?" Sirius replied immediately answered, still looking scared.

"I need you to start nixing any other spells that might still be in the room. Don't look for the Horcrux yet though, and if nothing else - _be careful_."

Sirius nodded grimly and, still grasping his wand tightly, began performing spells on the dank room they were sitting in the doorway of. Harry turned his attention back to Remus, who was beginning to become pale from blood loss. Harry gently pried his fingers away from the cut again, and examined it more thoroughly this time.

"... a Slashing Curse..." Harry muttered, mostly to himself. "The most powerful I've ever seen, for sure." Hearing him, Remus choked out,

"This is Voldemort we're talking about though." He spoke through clenched teeth, sounding pained. "Can you really fix it?" He asked apprehensively, looking searchingly into Harry's serious green eyes. Harry looked up at him, tearing his eyes off the wound.

"Yes, I can," he said comfortingly. "Don't worry - I do have medical training, you know." Remus looked comforted at his words. Harry immediately set back onto his arm, tapping it multiple times while murmuring spells. A minute or so later, it was looking considerably better. For the sake of Remus's mentality, he had magically cleared away the blood and sealed the lacerated bone back up, replacing a bit of marrow that had spilled out.

At the moment, he was digging through the non-apartment part of his trunk (which he had enlarged) looking for a potion he was _sure_ he'd gotten from Madame Pomfrey before leaving. Remus was gulping down a pain potion quickly, as if drinking as fast as a dehydrated man would make the pain lessen faster. Finally, Harry found what he was looking for - a small clear vial filled with a light pink liquid.

"Here, drink this," he said, handing it back to Remus, who had just tossed the now-empty vial of Pain-Relief Potion back to Harry. Without a word of confirmation or rejection, the werewolf popped open the tiny cork and tipped its contents into his awaiting mouth.

Harry once again minimized the trunk and placed it back into his pocket and turned back to his patient, who was looking significantly more calm and was examining his cut.

Before their eyes, the purple color was drawing back into one concentrated part of the wound, at the very center. Picking up his wand from the floor where he'd momentarily placed it, Harry placed the very tip gently on the purple spot and slowly drew it away. Following the wands motions, a small amount of purple liquid came out. Harry guided it into the now-empty vial where the pink potion had been moments previous. Remus sighed in relief as Harry waved his wand and created bandages, making a quick motion and causing them to wrap around his arm at record speed.

"All good?" Harry confirmed, looking at Remus intensely for any signs of lying.

"Fine, thanks to you," Remus replied, rubbing his tightly bandaged bicep. Sirius, who had been spelling his ass off with a vengeance at "the room that hurt Moony" until this point, now halted his spellwork and knelt next to them.

"All clear," he said, eyeing Remus's arm as if expecting it to explode. "You okay, Moony?" He asked with a concerned tone. Remus nodded.

"Yeah, but we really should get going. You should have just come back for me later!" He reprimanded. Harry, however, shook his head fiercely.

"No!" He growled. "Three people is always stronger than two. It was the best decision to help you, Remus. Plus, that was poison spreading through your system. You would have been dead in fifteen minutes flat."

Remus started, looking up at Harry wide eyed. He looked like he wanted to speak, but Harry once again cut him off.

"No time for chatter. Sirius! Are you sure you got rid of all the spells?" He asked, once again assuming his position as commander of their little group.

"I'm pretty sure," Sirius answered gravely, looking back at the room, which was no longer dark - as Sirius had placed the same lighting spells he had to the main area. "There might be one or two left, though. You might want to check." Harry did so.

"No, you got all of them," Harry said, helping Remus up from his sitting position. Sirius looked pleased with himself. "You're sure you can still react to spells coming at you, Remus?" Harry affirmed, eyeing his friend's arm once again. Remus nodded, still rubbing the injury.

"Yeah, though my offensive probably isn't too great," he replied. Harry nodded at this information, calculating it into his plans.

"Lets go in then," Harry said, stepping into the bedroom which Sirius had de-cursed - wand outstretched. When no spells came flying at him, he gradually lowered his arm, still a bit paranoid. Sirius and Remus walked in right behind him, also wary. "_Invenio Horcrux!_" Harry whispered, swishing his wand in a fairly complicated star-shape.

Their surroundings turned into a mostly white background, through Harry's eyes at least. Everything (well, most everything) had turned a stark off-white. The only only color Harry could see was a small, circular shape beneath the floorboards just two feet to his left, nearly under a dilapidated dresser.

"The Horcrux is under the floor over there," Harry said, pointing at the spot where he saw it. Sirius and Remus started, looking surprised. They had apparently believed it would be a bit harder to actually locate it once they were in the house itself.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked uncertainly. Harry nodded surely and walked over to the spot, kneeling down next to it. _Now. How to do this..._ Harry thought, narrowing his eyes at the dark splotched in his white world. _Well, no point putting it off_, he decided and pulled out his wand.

Pointing it at the ground, he said the incantation for the Scalpel Charm and cut a clean square around the Horcrux. With careful fingers, Harry pulled out the square of floor, the splintery wood practically falling apart in his hands. After placing it down at he feet of the Remus and Sirius, who were looking at his actions with a silent apprehension, he turned his attentions back to the hole he'd made.

Beneath the wood, there was a small black box about the size of a brick. It as ornate. Too much so to be buried in an old house on the outskirts of Little Hangleton, if you asked Harry. Even it if it had been Voldemort's mother's house.

It was pitch black and abnormally shiny - especially given that it had been hidden underground for who knows how many years. The top was covered with two small snakes, just a shade of black lighter than the rest. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled as he realized that there was a large, gothic "S" engraved on the top.

_S for Slytherin._

The only color of it was four small, dark green emeralds; one for each eye of the snakes on the box. Eyes still fixed on the box, Harry levitated the box out of the hole so it hovered about two feet above the ground - his eye level, as he was still kneeling. Sirius and Remus, enraptured with the box, kneeled next to him. Harry frowned slightly, but said nothing.

Still meticulously slow, Harry whispered, "_Alohamora!_" Not much to his surprise, nothing happened. After trying, and failing, to open the box using two other more complex unlocking charm he had in his repertoire, he stopped.

"It won't open," he said to Sirius and Remus unnecessarily, frowning. "Any ideas?" He asked, baffled as he examined with obsidian black box. Remus shrugged, for once completely without any ideas. Sirius, however, looked pensive. He leaned closer to the box, still keeping his hands far from it.

He cocked his head, looking directly into the small eyes of one of the two snakes wrapped around it. "Well," Sirius started slowly, "-if I was Voldemort, I would make it so only _I _could open it - no spells or anything."

Harry nodded in agreement, seeing his point but not getting where he was going.

"What if it's something that only he has... like, a blood sacrifice of his own blood or something?" Sirius seemed reluctant to even suggest it, and a cold feeling ran through Harry's spine. Going to the Department of Ministries to retrieve Voldemort's blood was about the last thing he wanted to do. Harry analyzed the idea.

"No," he said, shooting it down. "Voldemort wouldn't want to have to draw blood every time he came here. But you idea was good. What is something that only Riddle can do?"

There was silence as the three thought it out, still eyeing the box intensely. Suddenly, an idea hit Harry with enough force to actually make him loose his breath. _It's so obvious!_ He thought elatedly._ I don't see why I didn't get it before! _

"The snakes!" Harry said hurriedly, pointing his index finger at the snakes adorned on the box. "It's Parseltongue - a password!" Sirius and Remus gasped excitedly, eyebrows lifting as they examined his idea.

"You're right," Remus replied after a second of deliberation. "It all fits! Voldemort thought until his dying day that he was the only Parselmouth alive in his time. Why would he go to such lengths as having to draw blood when he could have a password he thought no one could imitate?"

"It's just like Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets," Sirius continued excitedly. Harry nodded swiftly, licking his lips. _No point putting it off..._ he thought in apprehension.

"Sirius, Remus - you guys have to be ready to block any curses that might be sent out. It's doubtful, because Voldemort wouldn't have thought in his wildest nightmares that anyone could have gotten this far into his protections, but we know there is at least a compulsion charm to put the ring on."

All Marauders present, including the most recent one, gulped in synchronization as the remembered what had happened to Dumbledore when he had put on the ring.

"Ready?" Harry confirmed, ripping his eyes off the box to check with his friends. They nodded, tightening their grips on their wands and pointing them readily at the box in case of a spell. After one last gulp, Harry spoke, staring directly into the emerald eyes of the snake closest to him.

"_Open._"

At once, it began. As if they had only been asleep, the two snakes began to slither across the box in a motion so alive looking Harry refrained from swiping them off the box like pests off an artifact.

When they had finally finished one lap around the box - a process taking an antagonizing thirty seconds - they stopped, shiny metal heads and evil eyes directed exactly at Harry. Then, there was a muted "CLICK!" and the box opened slightly.

Once again, Harry gulped, his eyes wide. With one quivering hand, he made a small motion with his wand and made the lid snap all the way up, finally revealing the contents of the box. It was strange seeing the the Ressurection Stone and Gaunt Family Crest ring without the long slash through it made by Dumbledore when destroying it.

_Speaking of Dumbledore_, Harry wondered,_ I wonder how he got the box open...?_ Then he literally shook his head to shake the thoughts out of them. Of all the times to get sidetracked, this was about the least fortunate.

The ring sat on a smaller, green velvet dais in the middle of the box, not looking at all dangerous. From behind Harry, he could hear Remus and Sirius shifting uncomfortably as they looked at the ring.

Then, Harry felt it. The pull, that was. He wanted... no. _Needed_ to put that ring on. If he put it on, he could see all the people he had lost in the first war, the his parents when they were actually... well, parent-like and older than him. His heart ached. He wouldn't even have to worry about collateral damage to the future due to his actions here in the past! All would be okay... he could just resurrect anyone he had cost the lives of!

Not even thinking about his actions any more, he reached his left hand out towards the ring, his face taken over by a smirking expression. His hand was getting closer... only eight more inches and he would have all the power he needed! But suddenly, he halted. Or, rather, he was stopped.

_I can't move!_ He realized in annoyance and a bit of anger. _Who is stopping me from_- Then he realized. From what? From resurrecting zombie-like ghosts, taking them away from their final resting places? Then, Harry was hit with an intense wave of nausea at what he had been about to do. He released the muscles in his hand, making no effort to struggle against the _Petrificus Totalus_ spell placed on him by the fast action of either Remus or Sirius.

Seeing his disgusted expression, Remus switched his wand fluidly and released the spell.

"I-" Harry started, but Remus cut him off.

"It's fine, Harry. Compulsion Charm, like you said," Remus said, looking at him with a slightly pitying look Harry didn't like, but understood the reasons for. Then, Remus's face hardened. "Come on, we need to get rid of this... _thing_ once and for all."

Once again determined, Harry stared at the seemingly innocent ancestral ring with disdain. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Harry said, no longer caring if he used nonverbal or verbal spells. The ring rose, to Harry's surprise. He'd half expected it not to. It hung in the air, as if by some invisible thread.

Eyes still fixed resolutely on the levitated ring, Harry reached to his belt and pulled out the sword he had nearly forgotten - placed back onto his belt when he they had found the Gaunt House. The sword was drawn from its casing with a metal-on-metal sliding sound.

Harry held the weapon aloft in his hands, handing his wand behind him to Sirius and motioning them to get back - which they did. Harry looked at the intact stone one last time, taking in it's non-cracked surface and basic adornment of the Peverell coat of arms.

Then, with one fluid motion, Harry swung the sword high over his head, not faltering for a second. With a single downwards motion, Harry slammed the sword sharpened-side down onto the line where the wand was engraved on the design.

Just as he remembered from destroying the locket, an unearthly screech filled the air. The ring, taken by a barrage it had not expected, glowed red as it tried to muster the small bit of Compulsion power it had from the bit of Voldemort's soul it held. But it was to no avail. With drawing Gryffindor's Sword for barely a second, Harry slammed it down angrily onto the ring one last time.

This time, fueled by his anger, the ring was spilt in half like a hot knife through butter. Harry's sword continued its destructive downward path, embedding itself deep into the splintery floor beneath their feet.

For a second, Harry's heart was at ease. He wearily picked up the two pieces of the ring, now completely without power - both as a Horcrux and the Resurrection Stone. _Or stones, plural, now,_ Harry thought. However, the peace was to be short lived.

Barely five relieved seconds had passed as Harry held the ring, when Harry noticed something wrong. Pulling the sword out of the floorboards with a considerable about of effort, he turned around - only to be met with the alarmed faces of Sirius and Remus.

His fears were only confirmed with a chunk of the ceiling fell out, landing barely two feet from Harry. Harry leaped away from it like a startled rabbit, nearly slashing Remus's arm open again. He stared at the chunk of plaster and wood uncomprehendingly. Then, it was followed by another. And another one, and another after that. Harry shook himself out of his stupor.

"RUN!" He bellowed, grabbing his wand from Sirius's surprised hand and instantly erecting a minor shield above the three of them like a magical umbrella as they sprinted through the obstacle course of falling concrete and beams on their way to the exit. _Almost there...! _Harry thought as they finally reached the door to the outside, adrenaline coursing through his veins like fire.

He grabbed the handle and yanked it open, pulling so hard that the top hinge to the door was ripped off and fell to the floor with a clatter that went unnoticed with the rumbling ruckus behind them. Harry took one last huge step and then he launched himself off the porch - flying through the air, his shield flickering as it deflected bits of debris. Behind him, Harry felt a sudden, flashing heat - which was soon extinguished.

He landed in the tall grass, facing the deceptively peaceful sky, the wind knocked out of him. Less than a second later, Sirius and Remus landed next to him in muffled crashes, the wind knocked out of their chests, leaving them gasping for air.

Harry smiled a small smile, taking in the success of the day. Finally, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to go to sleep for the first time in what seemed like forever.

_Another down. _

A/N: Whooie! This one has around 7,500 words! Even I'm impressed... XD I hope you guys liked it... make sure to message or review me to tell me about any loopholes or mistakes (unless it's super-super minor) you see :)

by the way, I've been going back and editing my earlier chapters. I don't mean to boast, but my newer ones are soo much better it's unbelievable. :D

As always, DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW AND MAKE MY DAY ;)

~Aquahina


	22. Aliases

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously.

_**I AM LOOKING FOR A BETA AT THE MOMENT! IF YOU ARE INTERESTED, JUST MESSAGE ME XD**_

Okay, as always, enjoy the show! Oh, lastly, I just thought I'd point out that, by word count, this story is now longer than Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. :D Also, a quick shout-out to author: _Xiahou Ayumi_, one of my most faithful and helpful reviewers. :)

...

_Chapter Twenty-Two: Aliases_

Despite the weariness of their entire party, and how much they would have loved to fall asleep for hours on end there in the grass, the Harry as woken from his peaceful slumber barely thirty minutes in by the screech of a car, and the loud slam of the doors as it parked (_illegally_, Harry noted) in the road, the occupants scurrying out franticly.

Out of all the people Harry could have imagined finding them, these people didn't seem to be the worst. Instead of the black-uniformed Muggle policemen he'd half-expected to see, there was a small family dressed in classic tourist clothing; complete with long, bermuda shorts, despite the slightly chilly Spring weather.

The father of the family ran wide-eyed over to the (still slightly burning) house quickly, looking helplessly around as if he'd expected to find a water hose or something to put it out with., but (obviously) finding nothing. Harry slowly reached his hand over to the grass about a foot away where his wand sat, hoping to Disillusion himself, and the still-asleep Remus and Sirius before he noticed the three very conspicuously dressed boys. However, he had just gotten his wand into his hand when there was an ear-splitting screech from behind him. Harry nearly leaped up into the air.

"Liam! _Liam!_" The woman's voice shrieked. Harry's stomach experienced a sinking feeling, knowing there was only one explanation to why she could be screaming. "Over there, behind you! There are _children laying in the grass!_" Harry nearly groaned. _Oh, this is just perfect. _

Just within sight in Harry's peripheral vision, the man who had been searching for a way to put out the fire (Liam, apparently) whipped around at record speed.

"For the love of-" the man started, rushing over to them with heavy footsteps. A little further away, Harry could hear grass being brushed away as the woman and their young child came running as well. The man reached them first, and quickly knelt next to them, shaking Sirius's shoulder (as Sirius was the closest to him) none-too-gently. "Son! _Son!_" The man yelled at Sirius. "Are you all right?"

Sirius stirred, scrunching his eyebrows closer together as he woke up. "Wha...?" He said in complete confusion as he looked the man in the eye. Said man was looking highly relieved that he had woken up. "W-what happened? Who are you?" Sirius asked, eyes narrowing a bit. The man seemed to come back to his senses after that.

"I'm Liam Harris," he quickly introduced himself, brushing a long strand of dark-blonde hair out is his eye. "But more on that later - let's wake up your friends."

Sirius finally seemed to have remembered what was going on. His eyes widened as he took in the apparently unconscious figure of Harry and Remus next to him. He turned to Remus, shoving the werewolf forcefully as "Liam" did the same to Harry. Harry stayed still for a few seconds, then started to groggily "wake up," when the man seemed to be preparing to perform CPR.

Harry coughed, and pretended to look confused. "W-who are you?" He asked in a meek tone that Harry hadn't spoken in in... well, in forever. Sirius halted his waking up of Remus - who was coming to - to look at him in astonishment. Harry looked at him with an innocent expression.

"Ruprecht?" Harry asked, looking soundly at Sirius, though Sirius seemed to have zero comprehension of what Harry was trying to do. "Ruprecht, it's Simon! Are you all righ'?" Harry spoke with a purposefully strengthened British accent, making his words so accented they seemed to come right out of an American sit com. It was only when Harry called himself 'Simon' that he seemed to get it.

"Yeah," he replied in the same type of accent as Harry. "I'm all righ', a lit'le banged up." He then turned to Liam. "'ow's our friend, Orville?"

Liam, assuming (correctly) that the alias of Orville was meant for Remus bent down to the wakening boy. "He's all right," he said thankfully. "What happened to you three?" But before Harry had the time to begin to spin a story, his wife and daughter appeared, slightly winded from the sudden dash.

"OH MY GOD, are you three all right?" She said over-loud, bending down to her knees to help out. "Is there anything you need? Water, food...? Do you need me to dial 9-1-1? I can dial 9-1-1... I should dial 9-1-1!" She turned her head left and right; as if she expected to find a pay phone in the middle of the small field.

"No, thank you, miss," Remus said politely. The woman gasped as he spoke, dropping her phone in surprise. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes.

"B-but-!" She stuttered, trying to word something.

"We're fine, really Miss...?" Harry said, trailing off a little bit. The blonde woman blushed a bright red and said,

"Oh, my! I'm very sorry - I didn't introduce myself... silly me! I'm Laura Jarvis, and this is my husband Liam Jarvis." She moved out of the way to show her small daughter, who had been peeking at them from behind her yellow sundress. "And this is little Marie... do you want to say hello, Marie?" The so-called Marie blinked slowly, comprehending. She stepped out from her mother's dress and said in a slow, careful voice unbefitting for a five-year-old,

"Hello. My name is Marie." Then, with a satisfied look on her face, she scurried back behind her mother, leaving only a single, pudgy hand visible. Harry's eyebrows creased a bit, surprised she wasn't able to speak better at the age of five. Then, Liam leaned a little bit closer, unaware of Harry's tensing muscles.

"Marie has a speech impediment," he whispered. "Not a stutter, but it is very hard for her to word what she means to say." Harry nodded. One of the boys his age down the street of Privet Drive (one of the few who didn't immediately run away when they saw him in fear of Dudley) had had a similar problem.

"What happened?" Laura Jarvis asked, looking both worried and curious. Harry's mind whirred as he tried to think of something that wasn't along the lines of, 'well, you see, there was this spaceship?' He was just about to spin off a tale involving their favorite pet dog trapped inside the house when Remus interrupted.

"It-it's rather stupid, really," he said, looking purposefully embarrassed. Laura looked consoling.

"Nonsense!" She exclaimed, putting a manicured hand on his shoulder. "Go on Orville."

"Well, you see, three months ago, Ruprecht, Simon and I left our hometown in south Wales to find my birthmother..." Liam and Laura's eyes widened, surprised at the turn of events, but said nothing and let Remus continue. "We tracked her down to this house. We were so excited... we were going to look for Ruprecht's parents next, now that we were legally out of the orphanage. But we got here, and the house was burning, set aflame by people barely a few minutes earlier!"

Laura gasped, and covered Marie's ears in case there was violence coming up in Remus's tale.

"We ran into the house... to see if-if-" but Remus couldn't continue. He suddenly burst into tears, to the immense surprise of both Sirius and Harry. Harry scooted over to him and patted his back consolingly. Tears continued to stream down Remus's face. Laura and Liam looked horrified at the verging-on-twenties man crying freely in front of them, unsure what to do.

"You don't have to keep on going, Orville," Harry said softly, taking his hand. "If it hurts too much..." But Remus wiped his cheeks off with the back of his smoke-stained hand tearily.

"N-no, Simon. I have to do this... I have to face it. The... the people who set the house on f-fire told me... they told me my birth m-mother had d-d-died-" Remus choked, "-barely a day before we arrived..."

Once again, loud gasps were heard from the area where the young couple and their daughter stood with terror-stricken, compassionate looks on their faces as they viewed Remus's "breakdown."

Harry enveloped Remus into a huge hug. Remus immediately latched onto him, giving no sign of slowing the Oscar-level performance.

"And now, we're all alone in this cold, cold world..." Remus finished tearily, though perhaps a bit too dramatic that time. However, the Jarvis family seemed to eat it up, a few tears escaping their eyes at Remus's sob-story.

"Oh, you poor dear!" Laura choked out, releasing Marie's hand and dropping to the ground, hugging Remus tightly. The werewolf's eyes widened slightly, the only crack in his facade. Harry felt a small pang of true sadness flow through him. Remus lived with only his father. His mother had died in childbirth along with what would have been his younger sister when he was only two. He was about as accustomed as Harry was to a mother's love.

"Do you three need a place to stay for the night?" Liam asked huskily, trying to hide a tear welling up in his eye with a brash rub so hard Harry wouldn't be surprised if there was a bruise come morning.

"We... we couldn't impose..." Sirius stuttered, looking down in a meek manner so unlike him Harry could hardly contain a snort of derision.

"Nonsense!" Liam said, gaining momentum by his Sirius's unsure response. "Come on and stay in our hotel at least for the night. We've got an extra room in our hotel suite, anyways." His wife nodded so rapidly that Harry was reminded forcibly of a bobble-head toy. "And you need to get out of those strange clothes you're wearing!" She walked up to Sirius and lifted the wide corner of his robe-sleeve slightly disdainfully. "What is this you're wearing, anyways?"

"Erm... orphanage uniforms," Sirius answered whimsically, thinking on the fly. She seemed to accept this.

"Well, they're very impractical, anyways. Now, come on, our car's right over there... do any of you need help walking?" Everyone shook their heads negative.

"Are... are you sure?" Harry asked timidly a final time, looking at his feet. "You know, that we can stay with you?"

"Of course!" Laura said, grasping Harry and Sirius's hands and dragging them to their feet with newfound strength. "Come on... wait, do you have anything you need?"

"No," Sirius said. "We had a suitcase for the three of us combined... but it was b-burned by the fire." Once again, the drama just kept piling on.

"You poor dears!" Laura clucked as she practically dragged the three to their modest rental car stalling in the road. Still letting a few tears escape from their eyes, they followed the distraught couple.

When they finally piled into the back of the station wagon (Marie stationed in a double-buckle on her mother's lap) Harry began to feel guilty for the first time. Technically, there were taking advantage of the kindly young husband and wife for a ride to the nearest town where they could get lodging - as none of them were near strong enough to Apparate. But he quickly knocked down the idea. It may not be quite life-and-death urgency, but that didn't mean he was going to turn down a change for a comfortable bed over a field of scratchy grass and mosquitoes.

When they were all buckled and situated, Liam began driving, taking a U-turn on the two-lane road and heading in a direction Harry assumed was towards the town at a fast clip.

"W-what's the nearest town?" He asked shakily, trying to make at least a meager conversation.

"We're staying in Stockport a few miles from here," Liam replied briskly. "In the Alma Hotel." Harry nodded, stopping his - artfully done, if he did say so himself - fake tears in their tracks.

"Thank you so much, again," Remus said, still teary. "You're all so... so k-kind to us..." Laura twisted her torso around as much as she could with the still shy Marie in her lap and said with a comforting smile,

"Don't worry, dears. We'll be there in barely over fifteen minutes! It was no trouble at all. Liam and I are happy to help three such obviously kind young men such as yourselves... right, Liam?" Liam nodded tersely. Once again, Harry felt an ashamed feeling go through him. _This isn't right..._ he thought. He turned to Sirius and Remus, who had similar culpable expression written all over their faces.

Secretively, Harry ripped off a corner of a magazine lying on the ground an found a pen with the car-rental place's name on it. Not looking at his paper so as to be discreet, he wrote a quick note:

_Moony and Padfoot,_

_Do you guys think it's really a good idea to stay with them? They're_

_really nice, but it could be dangerous for them and I'm getting kinda_

_guilty... :( Thoughts? _

_-Harry_

As soon as he was done writing, expertly avoiding the corner of the medication ad still advertising in the corner of the page, he slipped it into Remus's hand - who was sitting closest to him. Though surprised, Remus took it, waited a few seconds, then glanced at it for a few seconds before passing it onto Sirius, who did the same.

After passing the pen over, Sirius ripped off another piece of magazine and handed it to Harry and Remus.

_Guys,_

_Harry, admire ur "nobility" (ur a true Gryff!) but disagree. Best _

_4 all parties to stay night. V's dead, remember mate?_

_-Paddy_

Harry read it over with a critical eye. It was true, Voldemort (or "V" as Sirius had referenced it in his note) was dead... perhaps Harry was just being over-paranoid. He glanced at Remus with a cocked head, a questioning look in his eye. Remus grabbed the piece of paper from Harry's hand and flipped it over, writing in the empty space there.

_Harry and Sirius,_

_I'm going to be the annoying third party and not take a side. Both of you_

_have valid points, and I'm not sure of the best idea. Perhaps we compromise_

_and just get food to replenish our magical cores before leaving them?_

_-Remus _

Harry read Remus's note and gave a familiar sigh. Remus had always been the one to find a compromise. But he gave a small frown and wrote in the last sentence space available.

_Paddy and Moony,_

_Obliviate? Pros? Cons?_

_-Harry_

Remus took it and expertly held it between himself and Sirius so they could both read. They turned their heads and simultaneously, Sirius shook his head, and Remus nodded. Harry simply rolled his eyes. _Trust them..._ he thought with familiar irritation.

Silently, they faced back to each other and began to wage a war of expressions - Remus being the advocate for Oblivating them, and Sirius against it. This went on for a good thee minutes until from the front seat, the virtually forgotten Liam spoke up cautiously.

"Erm... boys? Orville? Ruprecht?" They looked up a bit guiltily, hands still mid-gesture. "We're going to be there in around two minutes, so..." Liam didn't finish his sentence, trailing off into a now-uncomfortable silence. Harry tore his eyes off his friends and out the window. Sure enough, the landscape around them had changed drastically. Where the long fields and scattered cottages had once been, there was now uniform houses with cleanly cut front yards on either side of the road. A suburb if he'd ever seen one.

Tilting his head a bit to the left so he could see into the crack from between Liam and Laura's seats, he could see the taller buildings ahead - signifying an approaching city. Barely a few minutes of suburb-crawling (and map checking, on the Laura's part) they pulled into a respectably sized hotel on the outskirts of the city of Stockport, England.

"Here we are," Liam said, pulling the key from the ignition and snapping open his seatbelt. "Everyone pile out!" Harry opened the side door to his right and stepped out onto the concrete in front of the golden-handled double doors leading to the lobby. Once everyone was in, Harry, Sirius, and Remus's sympathizers lead the way into the rather lavish hotel.

"Wow..." Remus whispered with real awe, and was quickly echoed by Harry. It was, for the both of them, by far the best quality hotel they'd ever lived in. Sirius, however, didn't look overly impressed - having stayed in several fancier, magical hotels with his family previously. Laura looked pleased that they were impressed.

"It is very nice, isn't it," she commented, looking at the golden tassels hanging from the floor-to-ceiling windows on her right.

"It's the most expensive place I've ever been..." Remus said aloud, once again taking on the persona of a scared, unsure orphan. (A slight stereotype, Harry had to admit, though he was not offended.) Once again, Laura's face softened, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes at the reminder of their "horrible upbringing." Though in Harry's case it was by far the most true. Then she started.

"Oh, I almost forgot - how stupid of me. You must all be so hungry!" Right in synch with Laura's words, Harry's stomach growled in an astonishingly loud manner. She seemed to take this for a sound yes. "Well then," she continued, "why don't I go order some food from room service right away? Any requests?"

"You don't have to get anything fancy," Sirius said, his rueful notions coming back full swing by their giving nature. "Just soup, or something would be great."

"Something full of carbs," Remus requested, his werewolf instincts needing more sustenance than Sirius and Harry combined. Well... given Sirius's immense appetite, maybe not that much... but a lot.

"I'm on it!" Laura said, striding off forcefully towards the door proclaiming that kitchen staff only were allowed in. Harry hoped for her sake they didn't get too angry.

After Laura had disappeared through the kitchen doors, Sirius, Remus, Harry and Marie followed Liam the upholstered, royal purple stairs to their room - which was on the third of the five floors in the hotel. When they got to room 302, Liam fumbled with the keycard, pushing it in the wrong way a few times, before the little light turned green and they were admitted into the room.

Stepping inside, Harry realized Laura's earlier mention of having a "suite" was completely true. He may not have had much experience with hotels (only the Leaky Cauldron, and one other hotel for a week when the Dursleys were getting their floors redone), but this was beyond what he'd been expecting. Apparently, Liam and Laura were far more wealthy than he'd previously suspected.

"Wow... this is an amazing room!" Remus commented pushing his palm into the bed and creating a handprint. "What to do you do for a living?" Liam perked up at the familiar conversation topic.

"I work as a treasurer for..." and Harry tuned the rest out while Remus nodded politely, listening. Around fifteen minutes later, the door slammed open again - this time by a hurrying Laura and two rattled looking servers all carrying large platters of food. Harry's mouth dropped.

"You- you didn't have to-!" He started again, guilt acting up for the third time that day. "I mean to say-" but Laura didn't let him finish.

"Nonsense!" She said in a tone that reminded him of Mrs. Weasley. "You three boys are so thin, and you've been through so much... eat up!" She plopped the platters down on the bed, and lifted the cover off the first plate. Harry's eyes widened.

There was one thing he missed about the Dursleys. Only one, and he'd never even mentioned it to anyone. That one thing was Petunia Dursley's baked macaroni and cheese. She was extremely proud of it and, for once, it was with good reason. She baked it only once a month, always on the last Friday. Not that Harry was allowed to have much, but when he was little, it was one of the few things he used to risk sneaking out and getting some of.

And there it was. The same recipe. Later, Sirius and Remus would tell him that he actually drooled in the five seconds he stood just staring at the steaming, cheesy noodles. Then, without another thought, he reached out and grabbed the large two-portion meal and ran over to the chair with a fork. Laura looked stunned, though pleased her food had not been wasted. Remus and Sirius also looked confused, though Sirius covered him with a hasty story about that being his favorite food at the orphanage.

When Harry had successfully polished off the last of the macaroni and cheese (feeling guilty and apologizing afterwards for doing so) he felt his magical reserves replenish from around 7%, to 90%. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he couldn't fight at all on only 7% power. It was that he just felt so... weak, and vulnerable. Not to mention, his paranoia increased - _though_, Harry noted, _my paranoia in general has been decreasing monumentally since I arrived in the past_.

In perfect timing with his sated thoughts, Sirius burped next to him, leaning back into the straight-backed chair he sat in and rubbing his stomach contentedly. Remus looked equally full, if a bit more dignified in his gorged manner.

"Ahhhh..." Sirius sighed, looking down at and rubbing the slight paunch that had temporarily appeared on his normally flat stomach and rubbing it as if it were a baby, or beloved pet. "Those rolls were so good... you should have had some, Harry!" Harry chuckled a bit embarrassedly.

"I was too busy gorging on the macaroni," he said, making Remus snicker.

"No kidding," the werewolf affirmed with a grin, then soon returned to his usual serious demeanor. "Now, down to business. Have we decided to stay the night or not?" He whispered despite the lack of Laura, Liam, or even Marie in the room.

"I vote leaving," Harry contributed. "They're great people, but it could be dangerous for them, even with Voldemort dead."

"Well, I want to stay!" Sirius said surely, wiping his barbecue-sauce stained lips on his already dirty sleeve. "I mean, why not? Like you said, Voldy-shorts is _dead_, Harry. Dead. We'd just be turning down a free bed." Seeing that they were at an impasse, Harry and Sirius turned to Remus.

"What do you think, Moony?" Sirius asked hopefully. Remus bit his lip.

"Sorry, Sirius, but I have to agree with Harry on this one. Better safe than sorry. Also, the full moon is three weeks away now and, you need to get started with that potion you were telling me about that you got ingredients for from Professor Dumbledore, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened. _I completely forgot about Remus's Wolfsbane Potion! ... how did I do that? _

"Reeemyyy...!" Sirius whined playfully. Remus didn't budged from his decision. In fact Sirius's appeal seemed only to make him more resolute.

"Sorry, Padfoot," he said. Sirius pouted disappointedly, but didn't try to push the argument even further. Then his brow wrinkled. "What were you guys talking about, with the potion or something for Remus?" _Oh, that's right_, Harry realized. I n_ever got around to telling Sirius that I got Dumbledore to get the ingredients for Wolfsbane._

"Catch him up, will you Remus?" Harry requested. "I need to think for a minute." Remus nodded in affirmation and turned to the confused dog animagus to explain. While they were doing so, Harry remained silent, hand resting on his chin thoughtfully. Remus was right. He needed to start the Wolfsbane. Even with the much-reduced time it would take to create it now that they had the ingredients prepared ahead of time, it would still take a good week.

Not to mention they still had the cup, the locket, and the diary to worry about, Horcrux-wise. A quick shiver went down Harry's spine. They were making much quicker time this time around, purely because Harry knew where everything was - and what to look out for. And it certainly helped that they actually had a way to get rid of the Horcruxes this time.

_Yes_, Harry decided. _I know what we need to do._

In perfect timing, Remus finished explaining to the excited-looking Sirius, who was thumping Remus on the back and congratulating him for "No more painful nights!" Harry smiled, but cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Excuse me?" They turned to Harry immediately. "I've decided that we need to leave Laura and Liam now. We have too much to do to dawdle around with them, not to mention endangering them."

Sirius sighed. "I thought you'd say that," he admitted. "I guess you're right. How soon is 'now,' though?"

"Now-now," Harry said, invigorated. "Like I said, staying behind can only hold us back. Remus, you write Liam and Laura a quick, apologetic note. And keep up our aliases." Remus nodded quickly and hurried off to the bedside, where there was a pad of hotel-paper and a pen.

"And me?" Sirius asked.

"You and I need to get supplies from here. Nothing major, though! Most of this stuff we can just conjure by ourselves. Just things like food and water, and the like." Sirius looked a bit disappointed (he'd been eyeing the quilt he'd taken a quick nap on hopefully) but agreed with Harry.

"I'm on it!" He said, and hurried off to the mini-kitchen and fridge while Harry went to scavenge in the bathroom.

About five minutes later, everyone was ready. Remus was licking the seal on an envelope over the (rather lengthy) letter of apology he'd written, and Sirius was in the process of helping Harry put the things they'd collected into one of Harry's compartments of his trunk.

Finally having finished packing and re-latching the trunk as well as shrinking it into it's "normal" pocket size form, the three men straightened up. All three took a look around. It was strange how in the space of ten minutes, they'd gone from gorging on hotel food to packed, and ready to continue a quest. _But since when has my life ever _not_ been strange?_ Harry wondered, smiling sardonically.

"Where are we Apparating to?" Remus asked, straightening his rumpled robes. Harry thought on this. It hadn't really occurred to him that he should know where they were going. He'd only really know that they had to leave.

"We're going to stay briefly in London, while we figure out our plans," he decided spur of the moment. Sirius, who was currently stuffing containers of the food ordered for them by Laura into his inner pockets turned in surprise.

"London?" He repeated, his right eyebrow raising. "Are you sure it's such a great idea to go so close to the largest capital of Wizarding activity in the world?" Harry winced slightly at the obvious glitch in his plan. However, he didn't back down - the good points of his plan now occurring to him.

"Exactly. It's the best place we could think of to be near wizarding society. We don't want to to total social hermits; we want to know the news and everything."

"So order the Daily Prophet," Remus suggested.

"Owls can be tracked!" Harry retorted, defending his plan. "Anyways, let's just discuss this later - we need to get out of here now. Let's Apparate to outside the Leaky Cauldron, and _no_, we are not going in for obvious reasons. We just all know where it is." Remus and Sirius nodded in agreement and after a second of concentration, they popped away, leaving only the rumpled covers and letter to show they'd ever even been there.

Harry gave the room a final once-over, and followed them.

...

A/N: I KNOW I SAID THIS IN THE BEGINNING, BUT I'M LOOKING FOR A BETA PRESENTLY. IF YOU'RE INTERESTED, SEND ME A MESSAGE OR REVIEW SAYING SO.

Also, I know this was sort of a transition chapter, and I didn't originally mean to make the Liam/Laura part so long, but it's kinda been constant action since they left Hogwarts. This is just here to make it a little less "then this, then this, then this!" kind of thing. Less of a list, I guess. A well-described list, but a list no doubt. :)


	23. Wolf

**Disclaimer**: Eu não possuo Harry Potter. (TRANSLATION: I do not own Harry Potter, in rough Portugese.)

LET'S ALL GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO MY NEW BETA READER, Xiahou Ayumi. She's a great writer... check out her stories!

(Xiahou Ayumi: 50% of my fics in Google Docs are unposted. HEHE. /runs away to Africa to avoid angry readers)

_Chapter Twenty-Three: Wolf_

It took three horrible, stomach-lurching seconds of Apparition to get Harry from a cozy Muggle hotel room to the bustling, pedestrian-filled concrete of Charing Cross Road, London. As Harry took just one step into the Muggle-protection wards surrounding the pub, he was immediately immersed in its all consuming sound. The predominantly silent, homey hotel was a far cry from what they'd just walked into.

Standing next to him in a reasonably more dignified manner (Harry had always been shaky, post-Apparition) were Sirius and Remus, looking around with slight longing. Harry didn't blame them in the least. This was the first familiar wizarding place they'd been in for... well, actually, it hadn't been that long, but it felt like _ages_.

"Padfoot, Moony!" Harry hissed, getting their attention. They swivelled their heads to face him. "Come on, take off your robes." They raised their eyebrows, but didn't protest as they took off the black wizarding robes draped over their regular clothing.

"Where are we staying, Harry?" Remus asked as he carefully placed his neatly folded robe into the enlarged trunk, next to Sirius's crumpled one.

"Um.." Harry scrunched up his face in concentration, but came up with nothing. "Well, actually, I don't really know; but there has to be some good, cheap hotels around here, right?"

"I guess..." Remus trailed off with uncertainty at Harry's weak answer. "How much Muggle money do we have?" Harry grabbed his blue money bag from one of the inner pockets of the trunk and peeked inside it.

"Enough for a couple weeks at a cheapish hotel," Harry said. "As long as we don't spend much money other than for food, we should be fine."

"And if worst comes to worst, I can always withdraw some money from my dear old parents' vault at Gringotts," Sirius added, grinning in a decidedly canine manner. Remus and Harry smiled at the suggestion, though Harry inwardly suspected they wouldn't be able to risk it.

"Come on," he said, motioning towards the street and away from the Leaky Cauldron, "This way. Let's go find another hotel."

"_Finally!_" Sirius groaned as he sunk onto the creaking bed. "I thought that was never going to end!"

Harry and Remus glared at him half-heartedly. "_You_ thought it was never going to end?" Remus growled, a vein popping out of the side of his forehead dangerously- an effect that would have been more effective had he not been pre-moon sickly. "Remind me - _who_ was the one who tried to order a toothbrush and a hot chocolate from the bus driver?"

Sirius bristled defensively. "Hey, it wasn't my fault! I've never been into the Muggle world for more than a couple of minutes!"

"That doesn't explain you yelling at the bus driver to 'Step on it!' and 'C'mon, you can dodge her... let's go!'" Remus said, though his narrowed eyes and yelling only seemed to make him look even more sickly than before. Sirius chuckled nervously.

"It's not like he was a good driver, anyway. He was stopping the entire bus just for a red light! It's not like the red light needed to go anywhere, and blimey! He could've just _dodged _that old lady!"

Harry rolled his eyes, more amused with the situation than Remus. "Come on, Moony," Harry cajoled, deciding to side with Sirius. "We're in _downtown London._ It's not like the people here aren't more or less used to strange things."

Remus gave a long-suffering sigh. "I guess..." he admitted, "-but still. If we're going to live in the Muggle world for a minimum of a week, then we have to teach him how to be at least _slightly _socially acceptable in Muggle society," Remus insisted. Harry agreed, and shuddered upon thinking on what chaos Sirius could create during the entire week they were there.

The two turned to Sirius with critical eyes, sizing him up as if he were a piece of meat at the butcher shop. "He's not _completely _unteachable," Remus finally said.

"Hey!" Sirius complained, insulted. "I was fourth in our class, after you, Lily, and James!"

"He has a point," Harry said, ignoring Sirius' protest - mostly just to annoy the dog animagus.

"I suppose..." Remus concurred, looking a bit disappointed. "Plus, it's not like we can just tie him up and leave him here the entire time- tempting though it may be." Sirius looked outraged at this, and stood up, albeit with difficulty, from his spot where he'd been laying on.

"Hey-!" he started again, attempting to protest, but was cut off by Harry.

"We're serious here, Padfoot," Harry interrupted. Sirius promptly quieted, though he still kept a decidedly indignant look upon his features. "You never know who might be listening when Muggles are talking about the strange, black-haired guy on the bus who tried to order a toothbrush." Sirius blushed a bit, and looked down at his large, socked feet in embarrassment.

"I guess..." he finally agreed. "But you're still too paranoid, Harry! Not only is Voldemort dead in both this time, _and_ in the future, but most of his followers are either imprisoned or dead. It's not like Death Eaters grow on trees, you know!" Harry's face contorted with annoyance, though he knew Sirius had a distinct point. _Perhaps I _am _being too paranoid about this.._ he thought, admitting it for the first time, even if only to himself. _Like Sirius said, Voldemort _is _dead, after all. _

"I see your point, Sirius," Harry said aloud after a slightly lengthy silence. Sirius looked flabbergasted, and Remus only slightly less surprised. "Voldemort is dead, and we probably don't need to be so careful now. However, 'probably' is the keyword here." Sirius looked confused.

"Wait, what-" he started to say, but Harry just continued as if he'd never been interrupted. Harry looked at them each in turn, searching deep into their eyes, attempting to convey how serious he was about this.

"I don't want to take any chances here, especially chances that can mess with our lives," he finished, speaking in a clipped tone that screamed earnestness. There was a slight tension in the air after Harry's brusque sentence. Remus stood in the middle of the beige-carpeted floor with a contemplative look on his face, looking worlds away. Sirius looked just as... well, rather _knowledgeable_, for once, and was looking at Harry deep into his eyes as if searching for something. Harry turned away, more than a little uncomfortable with Sirius's intense gaze.

"... okay," Sirius finally agreed, unconsciously imitating Harry's authorative tone. Harry gave a small sigh of relief.

"But first, we want to hear the _full _truth."

Harry was completely thrown off-course. He _had _told them the full truth! They knew he was from the future, and what they were searching for, and practically _everything _about him! _What else do they need to know?_ He wondered, then voiced his question aloud. But this time, it was Remus who answered - mirroring Sirius's intent, though Harry still had no idea exactly _what _that intent was.

"This whole time, Harry, we've been following you and your orders without asking much," Remus said. Harry felt a bit hurt. Did that mean they didn't want to follow him anymore? Was this some warped form of metaphorically 'throwing him off the island,' to quote one of Aunt Petunia's favorite television reality shows?

"Are you trying t-" he started, but Remus cut him off.

"We're not usurping you of your spot as our leader - that would just be foolish," Harry was markedly relieved at his words. "We just want to know what the plan is. Where the Horcruxes are exactly, and what your plan is to get them. We don't want a jaded version of it any more... we deserve to know." Remus finished on a strong note, looking at Harry with extreme certainty and determination showing in his amber eyes.

Harry sighed. _Oh, well,_ he decided wearily. _It's not like I can protect them from the trouble we'll soon be going through for long, anyway. _The idea that everything he'd been thinly veiling about their journey would soon be out in the open was both invigorating, and frightening. He didn't want to say out loud what they would have to do, and he was quite certain they would wish he'd just kept it a secret after they learned exactly what they'd had signed up for.

"Okay," he acceded, and took a huge breath. "Everyone find a good place to sit." Sirius and Remus complied, Sirius relaxing on the blue comforter of one of their two queen-sized beds, while Remus sat slightly stiffly on a wooden chair by the television, not taking Harry's words to get comfortable to heart.

"So. What do you want to know, exactly?" Harry asked, addressing mostly Remus, who seemed to be the facilitator of the mini coup d'etat they were pulling.

"Which Horcrux do you plan on getting next, and where is it?" Remus asked immediately, the question he had been dying to ask finally out in the open. Harry gave a sigh.

"Well, to start with, we still have to retrieve the Slytherin's Locket, the Riddle Diary, and Hufflepuff's Cup to completely kill Voldemort in this time." Remus and Sirius nodded curtly; this wasn't news to them. "But... it's the places where I think they are that will be the problem."

"Which one are we going after first?" Sirius asked.

"Personally, I was thinking of finding Hufflepuff's Cup first," Harry replied thoughtfully, still thinking it over himself. "However, the hard part will be getting to it. It's in... it's in the Lestranges' vault in Gringotts." He said dejectedly. Harry's companions simultaneously sucked in a breath. For a second, there was silence as they tried to comprehend what that would mean.

"But breaking into Gringotts is... _impossible!_" Remus exclaimed, emphasizing the last word. "And it's not like we're fugitives, like _you _were the first time. Can't we just ask the Minister's permission?"

Harry's lips twisted into a small, humorless smile. "Ron, Hermione and I broke in during our Horcrux hunt," he reminded, and Remus blushed a bit in embarrassment. "And though we're no longer fugitives, it would be impossible for the Minister to get the Goblins to give us anything from Gringotts. Gringotts is a company run by _goblins_, and therefore as the Minister of Magic and of Wizards, he has no control over them. And we can't even use Polyjuice potion to impersonate Bellatrix Lestrange. Well, we could, but we'd be arrested even faster that way. She's in Azkaban." Sirius nodded, not saying a word.

_Coming to think about it,_ Harry realized with slight surprise, _Sirius is our advantage here. Being raised in one of the largest and most prestigious Magical families in England has some perks, I suppose. No doubt he's learned at least _some _of this stuff from his family. _

"What do you think, Sirius?" Harry asked, hoping he could shed some new light onto him. Sirius was silent for a few seconds.

"At the England branch of Gringotts, the central and most secure branch, there are two ways to get into a vault," he said after length. Harry's interest was immediately peaked. He'd thought there was only one. "Only one legal way, of course," Sirius corrected, "-but two ways all the same."

"Well, the first is obviously go have the key," Remus said, gently urging Sirius to get to the point.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "That's the first. And the second, ironically, only works in the most secure, oldest branches of Gringotts. You see, when you first get a vault at Gringotts, you pay a certain amount to the bank itself. That's how Gringotts has most of its funding to stay open. Depending on how much you give, and your personal requests, you are given more secure areas deeper into the earth."

Harry was a bit confused by Sirius's impromptu history lesson. It was interesting, a bit like a Muggle conspiracy, really, but he didn't see how it correlated to what they were trying to do. However, he didn't interrupt, and simply let Sirius continue, which the dog animagus did.

"When you get the vault, the Goblins give you three things. The vault itself, obviously, is the first thing. Secondly, they give you an Accounts Scroll, which tells you how much money you have at all times. The third thing, is a list of your security measures and instructions on how to get through the Emergency route."

Harry gave a start. _Emergency exit!_ His mind screamed. _Why didn't we learn about this in our time with Griphook? _He then voiced his question indignantly. Sirius chuckled.

"If you were a blood-obsessed, greedy, Slytherin, Voldemort-supporting rich guy, would you let it be known there was an Emergency exit to your vault, where you keep all your money and valuables?" He asked rhetorically, speaking in a serious tone that didn't quite match the second-grade insults. Harry wilted a bit, seeing that Sirius's argument far outclassed his.

"I suppose not," he admitted sheepishly. Then, he managed to get back on track. "Anyway. How is it even possible to get through the Emergency way, when we don't even know where it is?" Sirius looked just a bit too innocent, and Harry suddenly felt a burst of hope surge within him. "Wait... do _you _know where it is?" He asked hopefully, eyes pleading that he was right.

To his disappointment, Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't. The only people who know where they keep their banking papers, traditionally, are the two heads of the family. In the Lestranges case - Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange."

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and could tell Remus was having the same feeling. For a second there, he'd thought it would be as easy as just raiding their house. But, knowing the Lestranges, it wouldn't be nearly that easy.

"So how are we going to get them?" Remus asked, mind coming up blank for once on whatever Sirius might be thinking of. For the first time during their conference, Sirius let a smile appear on his face. _No, it's not quite a smile,_ Harry reconsidered, _more of a hyena grin._ "... Sirius?" Remus prompted again, his tired expression and sunken eyes now fully prepared for whatever idea Sirius might have been having at the moment.

"We're going," Sirius said, his lupine smile only growing with every word, "-to break into Azkaban."

For a second, silence reverberated in the moderately small hotel room with a tangible force. Or rather, with the force of unimportance compared to the vitality of what Sirius had just suggested. Harry tried to find words to express what he wanted to say, but Remus beat him to it.

"ARE YOU _MAD_! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL KIND OF PLAN IS THAT! THE, 'LET'S ALL GET INCARCERATED BY SNEAKING INTO A DEMENTOR-INFESTED PRISON TO SPEAK TO A CRAZY VOLDEMORT SUPPORTER WHO HATES HARRY'S GUTS' PLAN?"

Remus seethed, and looked as if he would have liked to continue further, but his voice had become scratchy halfway through his speech. Sirius, apparently not expecting for his idea to get a warm welcome, didn't look fazed at all, only slightly abashed.

"It's still by far the best plan we've thought of!" He retorted. "And completely unexpected, too. Azkaban is a fortress - miles off shore in frigid, shark-infested waters and guarded by, as you _screamed_, Remus, Dementors."

"Exactly!" Remus said, still scratchy, interrupting with exasperation. "So why-" But Sirius cut him off, plowing through with his point.

"But the thing is, it's built to prevent people from getting _out_, not in." Remus's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Harry rubbed his scar thoughtfully._ Sirius has a good point here_, he thought, more surprised that he would have admitted to the dog animagus. _No one expects anyone to be crazy enough to try to sneak into the worst prison in the world... But I see one problem..._

"Wait..." Harry said unsurely, hoping this wasn't what he was getting at. "You're not suggesting we break her out of prison, are you?"

Sirius shook his head at record speed, causing his long, black hair to fly about in a flurry. "Are you joking?" He asked, with pure disbelief on his face. "You think I would let my psychopath of a cousin out from behind bars?" Harry had the grace to feel a bit ashamed, though he was ultimately relieved that Sirius was not intending on releasing Bellatrix.

"Then what are we going to do? She's not going to answer us that easily if we just barge in and ask her for the key to her vault," Remus pointed out. Sirius winced, not having thought that far into his plan. He grasped at straws, trying to save his idea.

"Well... well-" he stuttered, trying to think of something. Remus interjected, pitying him.

"What could we offer her in exchange, to make her believe that we are not breaking in for her money?" the werewolf said. Harry was contemplative. It was a very good question... imperative even, if they were to try out Sirius' plan. But what could they offer her that she would want?

"Do we even _have _to sneak into Azkaban?" Remus asked in a question similar to his previous one asking about Gringotts. Harry gave a similar answer.

"Unfortunately, yes, Remus," he replied. "Technically, we could just make a request to see her. But, supposing we actually got her to tell us where her papers are, how would it look if we went to see her, then a couple days later, someone steals something from her bank?" The question was not rhetorical, and Sirius and Remus struggled to figure out what he meant. Then, a look of understanding passed through Sirius's eyes, and he chose his next words with extreme care.

"Then they would think that we are in league with her, and that she had told us to retrieve something from her vault." Harry nodded, affirmative. Sirius and Remus looked crestfallen at this new prospect.

"Right," said Harry. "But back to the original question. If we decide to go through with this... what can we offer her that she will want, other than freedom?"

Silence enveloped the small hotel room. To be honest, none of them could think of anything she might want. _In fact,_ Harry thought with sickening realization, _it will probably be impossible to get her to tell us anything._ Harry hated Bellatrix Lestrange with the burning fury of a million suns, but he had to commend her loyalty. Also, Harry was the one who had not only killed her master, but landed her in Azkaban.

They weren't going to be able to convince her of anything any time soon.

Harry emitted a growl of annoyance. Despite the usual amount of riskiness in Sirius's plan, it had been a good one. The best any of them had been able to think up, anyway. _It really is too bad it won't be able to work,_ Harry thought, both annoyed and disappointed by the lack of a good idea. He was about to voice this, when he was shaken out of his thoughts by a loud voice. This, in itself, wasn't unusual. Sirius was an extremely loud person. But what made him start was the fact that it _wasn't_ Sirius; it was Remus.

"Merlin's blue spittle-covered tissue!" He yelled suddenly, banging his head on a nearby table with an alarming display of fervor. "We are _so stupid!_"

Harry and Sirius were both baffled, and concerned for their aggravated friend; especially since the normally calm werewolf just had temporary mental lapse, and the fact that he was holding his head between his knees from the pain of hitting his head during his pre-moon sensitivity.

"Uh, Remus?" Sirius tentatively asked in a small voice, trying to sound comforting in Remus's sudden breakdown. "I know it wasn't the best idea, but it's okay if it's not going to wor-" He was cut off by Remus, however, for what seemed like the millionth time during the conversation.

"It's not that!" He said, managing to get over the brief, blinding pain, standing up and pacing back and forth in the confined space of their room. "It's just... _ugh_! I can't believe we didn't see it before! It's so _simple!_"

"What!" Harry and Sirius yelled simultaneously, by now on edge. Remus seemed to calm down a tiny bit, and managed to make more or less understandable sentences.

"We don't have to trick the answer out of her!" He said in a significantly lower tone than the earth-shattering volume he'd used previously. "We can just use Veritaserum!"

Harry could have slapped himself. In fact, right after thinking this, he _did_ slap himself. Rather hard, actually. Remus was right... how had they not thought of that! They weren't a normal group of Hogwarts students... they were _the Marauders_ for Merlin's sake! These were the people who had discovered each and every hidden room in Hogwarts, and had more recently used said potion to exhort Harry's secrets from him!

Harry slapped himself again. Sirius, however, seemed to have a whole different take on their forgetfulness. Instead of being hard on himself as Harry was - though Harry's way was probably not the most mentally healthy way to deal with his issues - he was laughing in a way they hadn't seen in over a month.

Sirius was literally rolling on the ground in a fashion usually only seen in 60's cartoons, wrapping his long arms around his shuddering stomach. After a couple of minutes, all three managed to halt their separate ways of berating themselves, and turned back towards each other; Sirius still emitting a high pitched hiccupy giggle now and then.

"I can't believe I forgot about Veritaserum," Harry said, halfway between smiling and glaring at himself (if that was even possible). "After all the trouble it's given me..." he looked pointedly towards his companions, who had the grace to look ashamed- Remus, who never had wholly supported the plan to use the illegal potion on Harry, pulling it off far more successfully.

"Thank god!" Sirius wheezed, relaxing his muscles and clambering back onto the bed he'd rolled off in a fit of laughter. "I'm just so glad we don't have to be-" he shuddered, "-_nice_ to Bellatrix. God, I hate that woman." Harry couldn't agree more. He hated Bellatrix Lestrange on a level surpassed only by Voldemort himself; and as the snake-like man was dead, she now pretty much topped the charts.

"Do we have any in our stores?" Harry asked, directing the question to Remus, who had become the impromptu manager of their supplies. Remus' eyebrows furrowed in concentration, thinking with more effort than needed had it not been only two days until the full moon.

"No, I don't think we do," he finally replied. "Should I go into Diagon Alley to get some?"

"Definitely not, Moony," Harry replied, just a moment before Sirius opened his mouth to voice similar sentiments. "You need to rest. The Wolfsbane Potion will be done in time for the day after tomorrow, albeit it'll be cutting it close. So for now, you just need to relax."

Remus looked as if he wanted to protest, but withheld from doing so.

"I guess," he finally agreed, his tight lips contrasting with his gaunt face. "I'll find something to do, I suppose. Do you need any help finishing the potion?"

Harry considered. There was really no more work to be done, really. It just needed to brew for one more day, then have the most important ingredient (the actual Wolfsbane, from which it derived its name) added right before consumption. _But I guess it couldn't hurt to give Remus a little something more to do, _he decided. _I'm going to be busy finding somewhere to have him endure the actual ordeal out in the countryside._

Harry passed along his plans to Sirius and Remus, who nodded in acceptance - Remus looking guilty and torn about having to cause this much trouble in their plans, no matter how much they assured him it wasn't his fault.

So with that, they dispersed into their own ways. Remus, confined in the room for the next couple days until the full moon, set about unpacking their bags into the two dressers provided, as they were planning to stay for at least a week. He also conjured another bed to make three in their semi-cramped living space.

Sirius, under a disguise so as to not raise suspicion that they were in the area, had been sent out to buy Veritaserum at the Apothecary, and whatever books he could find on Azkaban and its defenses in Diagon Alley. It was common knowledge now that Harry Potter/Jameson (Harry was still uncertain if everyone knew about his time escapade), Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin were gallivanting about doing something together. From what he'd gathered from their limited connections to the Wizarding World at the moment, no one had the faintest idea of what they were doing.

However, the fact stayed the same that Harry just didn't want anyone knowing where he was - even in a vague sense. If anyone saw and recognized Sirius or Remus, they would automatically assume that Harry was in the area. Though this probably wouldn't be too dangerous a piece of information to be spread in dire need, it was possible that some of the few and far between Death Eaters still roaming England would try and avenge their Master's death.

Harry, on the other hand, had quite a few tasks to complete. First and foremost on his mental list was the issue of where to bring Remus to transform on the full moon. This was a rather selective category. It quite obviously had to be secluded - preferably in the woods - without any Muggles whatsoever. The fact that they were currently residing in the biggest hub of Muggle activity on the British Isles didn't make this any easier.

Of course, they could Apparate to out of city to find a good spot, but England was a largely populated place. Remus would need at least a 25-mile-radius wide Muggle-free area to be completely safe in Harry's eyes.

Not to mention his other task of figuring out their game plan for the rest of the Horcruxes. Harry's way of doing things had always been to go with the flow; not the most strategical way to do it. It had always worked, for the most part - but this time he wasn't willing to jeopardize their chances with such a risky strategy.

Of course, given Remus and Sirius' newfound need to pick _every _single idea from Harry's head regarding the Horcruxes, this meant the whole event had to be group-affirmed. Though, of course, Remus' agreement was the most important part of the whole debacle, what with him being the most sensible and all.

The next two days passed quickly, and for the most part without a hitch. Despite the fact that it was long overdue, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the relative calm of their current life would be short lived. It was such a... _normal time_, to put it bluntly.

No Death Eaters. No Voldemort. No gigantic, poisonous or feral animals out to get their flesh. Not even an evil diary to shake things up. To be honest, Harry was a teensy bit _bored_. Okay, maybe bored wasn't quite the right word. It wasn't like he wasn't enjoying the peace - really! It had been too long since he'd had time just to relax. But even so... he was restless.

Before they knew it, it was the day of the full moon. The sun had risen that day, and Remus was the first one out of bed, which was normal pre-moon behaviour for him; alert at just past 6 am. Though he had gotten up early, Remus looked and felt terrible the whole day through - also, unfortunately, a typical occurrence.

The Wolfsbane Potion had been completed (with the combined effort of Remus and Sirius) a bit earlier than they'd expected - at about midday before the full moon. By this time, Harry had found and gotten approved a place for Remus to change. It was a place near Cornwall. Uninhabited for a good thirty mile radius from where Remus would be doing the actual shapeshifting, it was sparsely wooded, and, to quote Remus, "a strangely pretty place to spend your time painfully morphing into a dangerous, magical killing machine."

Harry had to agree.

The evening of the full moon crept up on them, and soon, it was 6 pm - time for them to Apparate to the forest before Remus was too weak to do so. The time was marked by Remus himself, who by now had acquired many animalistic instincts and knew how long it would be until he transformed, down to the actual minute.

Carefully, and with a feeling of abandonment, they left Remus in the forest with a blanket, some water, and a dinner Harry had painstakingly made for him. Then, the two animagi waited patiently about a half mile away from Remus. Time ticked away, and the sky slowly darkened from blue, to purple, to dark blue, and finally into black.

_The forest is creepy at night,_ Harry thought, shivering and pulling his cloak more firmly around himself. _I hope Remus is okay..._ These thoughts had barely been processed before a long, bloodcurdling scream filled the woods, scaring all the birds and squirrels away from their homes. The pain-filled shriek lasted nearly twenty seconds without a break. Crows flew from where they'd been resting in the trees, cawing in dismay and confusion. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. Silence swept through the woods, and Sirius and Harry exchanged a look.

There was an unanimous agreement that they should turn into their animagus forms at this moment - Sirius a shaggy, black dog, and Harry a fearsome snow leopard. Together, the strange pair ran through the woods, getting closer to where they had left Remus. They were almost halfway there when another sound reverberated through the dense trees, even more chilling than before.

The howl that resounded was the epitome of nightmares, Harry noted, denying his more animalistic instincts that were screaming at him to turn back and run from the stronger predator. It was long and throaty, sounding unnatural even without having to see its source.

A scant few seconds later, they arrived, bounding off the large oak trees to the spot where the huge wolf had begun its prowl. Needless to say, it was _huge_. It was practically three times the size of Harry's snow leopard form, which was already considered huge by normal standards. However, it looked different from Harry what had seen in his third year, when Peter Pettigrew had escaped yet again. Then, it had been skeletal and more human looking, fur falling out in patches around its chest.

Now, the wolf was in its prime. Instead of the grey colour Harry remembered, it was an almost tawny color - exactly the same color as Remus' hair. The eyes, too, were the same - the color of pure amber, slightly edging towards a vindictive gold; though they were slitted like a cat's - _not normal for a wolf. _

It pawed the ground, baring its two-inch teeth at them menacingly. Harry unconsciously shrunk back a bit, hackles rising defensively. Padfoot, however, went forward without fear. The dog practically pranced forward, and rubbed his muzzle on the wolf's right leg, which he only came up about three quarters of. The wolf, surprisingly, seemed to recognize Sirius and nuzzled the dog between his ears with the tip of his huge nose.

It couldn't have been more obvious that it was conveying its dominance as the alpha of their little pack. Seeing Sirius' successful attempt, Harry crept forward, keeping on his haunches close to the ground so the wolf wouldn't feel threatened. It hurt Harry's pride slightly to show such dominance to another predator (though this was mostly the snow leopard instinct) but he knew it was extremely necessary.

The wolf gave a small growl, and Harry's heart nearly exploded out of his sleek, fur covered chest. Remus may have his mind, due to the Wolfsbane potion, but his wolf side was still there and controlled about ten percent of Remus' actions. Despite this, Harry didn't budge, instead moving his head down lower in a way that seemed to make him bow to the werewolf. There was a pause above him, as Harry's eyes kept trained on the ground. He prepared to run away, and was about to, when suddenly he felt something on the top of his head. Remus's gargantuan, lupine nose was briefly resting between his ears, an assuredly alpha gesture of acceptance.

Harry accepted the peace offering, and leaped up immediately, joining Sirius in his hyperactive trek around the forest - though he was considerably more reserved about it. But, really, was it really necessary to "mark his territory" on Remus' paw? Harry couldn't help but feel Sirius had gotten a little bit too comfortable about the situation; the large dog even looking happy as he ran away from the angry Remus, who would fully remember this the following day.

It was a fun night for Harry and Remus, though he felt guilty feeling so due to Remus's state afterwards. As he wasn't confined to the Shrieking Shack as usual, not to mention his company and the Wolfsbane potion, Remus had not resorted to clawing at himself as he'd heard sometimes happened when he had no control.

At the exact moment of sunrise, when Remus transformed back into a human, he looked fairly good, for having just survived a full moon. The Wolfsbane potion had done its job, and Remus woke up at approximately 9 am - a good two hours than he usually did, according to a gleeful Sirius.

It had been one of Harry's biggest concerns regarding the night that Madame Pomfrey, or any other healer, would not be there to help Remus afterwards if he got hurt. It consoled him a bit to know that he'd taken months of Magical Remedies class with the strict woman - but he was still highly relieved that he didn't have much to actually fix. Luckily, Remus had acquired only a few scratches and scrapes - the worst being a semi-deep one on his right shoulder blade that might have needed a few stitches in the Muggle world.

All in all, Remus was in full commission at mid-afternoon, and in high spirits. Apparently, it usually took at least overnight to get Remus feeling nearly as good as he was now. Though it was almost all the help of the potion, Harry's ego couldn't help feeling a bit inflated at the slight stroking it received from Remus's exuberant praise. Remus had even forgiven Sirius for peeing on his foot while in wolf-form - something Harry was immensely grateful for.

Remus didn't have many faults, but he could carry a grudge.

In the spirit of the day, Harry had decided to give his little group a proverbial "day off" the day after Remus's recovery. And indeed, it had been a long time coming. What with all the giant snakes, time-warp villages, and exploding houses they'd run into lately, a little vacation time was well-earned.

All three of them had gone into Diagon Alley, under the guise of three normal teenage boys, and bought ice cream at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, stocked up on a bit of gold at Gringotts, and gone on a bit of a magical shopping spree, buying interesting but rather useless items in various shops all around.

They returned, laughing, at around 4 in the evening - each of them carrying a medium sized bag of their random purchases. Dumping them unceremoniously near their trunks, they collapsed on the beds Remus had transfigured the first day they had arrived. The three of the four Marauders sat in companionable silence for around five minutes, each panting slightly from their active day.

Harry was sad when he finally had to break the comfortable silence with a quest-related comment. It seemed a shame to sully the relaxed day with such stressful ideas, but it was necessary. They only had about a month and a half until the end of term, which would be the time Harry would be automatically transported back to the 21st century. It had been fun to take a quick break, but this escape from responsibility would most likely be both the first and last of its kind.

Turning over on his bed, Harry grabbed one of the four books Sirius had managed to find about Azkaban from under his bed where he'd stashed them. Without ceremony, he tossed one to each of his friends, leaving him with _Azkaban: Why You're Safe,_ a thick tome by Alfred Lock.

Remus and Sirius caught their books awkwardly, and looked at the titles. Immediately, their faces went from carefree to the serious expressions they'd been sporting for most of the last month. Harry gave a wan smile, and said one last half-hearted quip.

"Looks like we'll be doing exams this year after all, boys."

A/N: Sorry for the semi-late update.

ALSO! I KNOW I HAVEN'T BEEN UPDATING MY OTHER HARRY POTTER STORY, "RECOGNITION" FOR NEARLY FOUR MONTHS. I'VE JUST BEEN TOO BUSY ON THIS, BUT EXPECT AN UPDATE SORTA SOON... IF I CAN :)


	24. Infiltration

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I'm pretty sure I would be making actual money off this venture... sadly, I am not.

Again, thanks to Xiahou Ayumi, my beta reader!

_Chapter Twenty-Four: Infiltration_

_It's been precisely sixty-nine hours and twenty-four minutes since our day off ended,_ Harry thought, looking at the navy blue clock in the corner of their little hotel room with utmost annoyance. It was the kind of clock that ticked incessantly with a painfully audible sound. That same ticking sound which had been the only sound, other than the occasional toilet flush or cough, in the room for over four hours. No one was speaking.

Taking an break from studying the map laid out in front of him, Harry lifted his eyes and looked at his friends. Strangely, neither one had voiced any complaints or attempted to initiate any small talk during this intense studying period.

_Intense studying period._

'Intense' was an understatement.

For the past two days, twenty-one hours, and thirty-six... now thirty-_seven_ minutes, they had been studying with unprecedented fervor._ In fact_, Harry realized, _we haven't even left this room for practically three days now! _

That was completely true. Food? They ordered room service. Laundry? They were teenage boys- they could deal. Communication? With whom?

Well, actually, the communication part wasn't quite true. They had sent their first letter to James and Lily in Hogwarts, telling them a much watered-down version of what had happened in their journey so far. By watered-down, they meant that they had excluded much of the horror and danger they'd faced in an attempt to avoid James ripping their heads off for being careless at a later date. They had received no reply so far, but that was hardly surprising. They had only sent it a day and a half ago; not to mention that the contents of the letter is something that might take a while to soak in. It's not everyday you get a letter from your friends saying that they had travelled from one village to the next looking for Dark soul-keeping items that can potentially kill you, and then ending with a simple 'So how's school?'.

Included in their letter as well was a separate note from Harry giving James the okay to bring Lily into the "We Know What the Hell Harry's Doing" club (founded in 1977 by one Sirius Black). It was when Remus was acting as scribe for the letter did Harry notice that they had not told James this before they had departed. Knowing James, he would think Harry wouldn't be okay with it and might be killing himself about keeping things from his girlfriend. Of course, knowing Lily as well, she was likely to be badgering him about it nonstop.

Harry took a deep breath and reluctantly turned back to the map and blueprints. It wasn't like he didn't know how important this was or anything; in fact, he knew that better than anyone. But the fact was that... he felt like they were wasting precious time. It's like going around in circles, only to figure out that you're not walking straight after the fifty-seventh turn. Harry's eyes dragged over the inked walls of the Wizarding prison barely hidden contempt.

The three of them each had separate jobs. It was unanimous that Sirius was to be tactician. He was the one pouring over the information on anything and everything he thought might be even the slightest bit helpful. At the moment, Sirius was devising the plan to break in and get out, as well as any processing other information they might get along the way. Yes, Sirius was perfect for this job.

Remus had two jobs: the interrogator, and the alibi maker. Remus was the one making distractions, diverting attention, and creating the back story just in case they got caught. Right now he was living up to his job as the interrogator by drawing up a list of questions they should ask.

Harry, on the other hand, had quite a few jobs. First and foremost, he was the main combatant against Dementors. Remus and Sirius knew how to do the Patronus Charm, but only to a certain extent. Their corporal Patronus was nowhere as bright or strong as Harry's. (Harry found it amusing that this time, he was the one who'd had to help Remus with it.) Besides that, he was also the area guide, left with the difficult task of memorizing the intricate corridors and rooms in Azkaban to direct their little party. Hence the much-loathed map.

In Harry's opinion, he had drawn the short stick in their arrangement. All he really had to do, preparation-wise, was memorize an - admittedly extensive - drawing. Remus and Sirius, on the contrary, had to study up on spells and get actual artillery. Artillery, of course, meaning distraction and defense objects - quite a few gathered from the box of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes merchandise they'd found in the living room of Harry's trunk.

For at least the tenth time, Harry pulled out a large piece of paper and put the map away. Closing his eyes, he tried to visualise the map, concentrating on every corridor and passageway he knew of. Slowly, he began to draw it with a steady hand, never opening his eyes. He nearly got two thirds of the way done when he realized he'd exhausted the furthest stretches of his memory. Feeling extremely annoyed with himself, he crumpled the paper with a growl, tossing it against the wall near Remus.

Remus looked up from his book, looking entirely too relaxed and content for Harry's liking. "What's wrong, Harry?" he asked, carefully setting down _Veritaserum: Delving into the Human Mind, _by Sylvia Truth on its spine.

Harry flopped back onto his stacked pillows with a grunt of annoyance. "It's nothing," he replied sullenly. Remus stood up, stretching his muscles gracefully and walking over to where Harry lay collapsed in a significantly less elegant manner. "I just wish there was something else I could do, I guess."

Remus laughed softly. "Yeah, I think we all feel that way, Harry." Harry snorted.

"I doubt as much as me. All I've done for the past three days was stare at an old and _likely inaccurate_ map for hours on end!" He said loudly, causing Sirius to look up, stormy eyes studying them over the top of his tactics book. Remus smiled guiltily.

"I guess you've got me on that one," he admitted. Harry managed a small, tired smile, glad Remus hadn't tried to argue further on that point. For a while, silence reigned. Harry basked in the calming mapless-nessof the situation. But, all too soon, it was ruined. "Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Harry, but don't you have a map to get back to?" Remus suggested, standing up from where he'd been perched on the bottom of Harry's bed. Feeling very much the impertinent child, Harry groaned.

"Yeah," he admitted, "I do."

"We only have two more days until we officially leave, Harry," Remus reminded him unnecessarily._ As if I could have forgotten, _thought Harry. "We can't afford to delay anymore after that, what with you magically being swept back to two thousand-whatever your year was, and all." Harry snorted.

_Why is there always a time limit?_ He wondered, his thoughts straying a little. However, he quickly dismissed the question and went to retrieve the Azkaban blueprints he had haphazardly placed on the floor next to his bed a scant few minutes before.

By noon the next day, Harry had finally memorized the passageways and corridors of the Wizarding prison, and had even succeeded in drawing a perfect replica of the map twice, to his great pride. Given what Harry had told him about the different entrances, exits, and security measures, Sirius had been working hard on a strategy to get in, question Bellatrix, and get out - stealthily and (ideally) in one piece.

Remus, too, was done with most of his job. He had finished with the interrogation questions earlier on during the study period, and was now progressing on to the alibi. The man had called in favors Harry had no idea he'd had, looking more like a Muggle spy or something of the sort than a wizard. How he had connections in the Ministry of Magic Wizarding Identification and Familial Relations offices was a mystery to Harry.

Sirius had given Harry a brief rundown of what he had planned so far - and to Harry's extreme relief, it was a plan well worthy of what they were trying to attempt. Given what he'd said, Harry put a low-level Glamour Charm on himself (they were all trying to conserve magical energy, even days before the task at hand) and headed out for what felt like the thousandth time that week, to Diagon Alley.

There, Harry bought two matching sets of black clothing, an extra wand for himself (Sirius and Remus had been horrified that Harry didn't have a spare), some Muggle hair-dye and contacts, a temporary weight-gain potion, as well as a set of Slughorn-genre clothing. This last request had been the only point where Harry seriously considered asking Sirius whether he was joking or not, damned be the solemn look on his face. However, he'd gone along with it, and so here they were - purple velvet waistcoat and all.

A good hour later, Harry returned with the goods, and dumped them in front of a pleased looking Sirius with a scowl.

"You'd better not be pulling my leg, Sirius," warned Harry, narrowing his eyes for effect as he eyed the dog animagus with some reservations regarding his supposed sanity.

"No, no," his friend assured him offhandedly, eyes fixed delightedly on the purchases as he rubbed his palms together in a decidedly sinister way. "I'm almost done fixing the last couple loopholes in my master plan."

Harry chose not to answer this, mostly in fear of the answer being anywhere as bad of his conscience screamed it must be for palm-rubbing to be involved.

Fortunately for all three of them, Sirius's plan was neither [overly] crazy, nor [overly] difficult. In fact, in retrospect, it was pretty much an embellished version of the oldest trick in the book. This, of course, was why it was so brilliant.

The biggest problem, Sirius had explained, was that Remus didn't have an animagus form. As Harry knew all too well, animals didn't have the same emotions or memories as humans, and therefore were not affected by Dementors on the same level as humans. This brought them to a problem. What could Remus do without having to be tortured by Dementors?

The plan, from there, was simple.

As Remus had read in one of his numerous Azkaban-related tomes, prisoners of Azkaban not under maximum security were allowed familial three visits per year. Remus, through his strange and still unexplained connections to the Ministry, had managed to get himself a wizarding passport under the name of Nathanial Yelker, second-cousin to Quintin Yelker - an inmate of Azkaban who had spent the past fourteen years in the horrid prison for fraud, embezzlement, and man slaughter.

Remus, decked out in the Slughorn-themed clothes Harry had bought, would go in and demand to see his second-cousin. The prison guards would walk him to his cousin's cell, which was at the end of the block - seeing as his surname was at the end of the alphabet. Once there, he would do anything and everything he could think of to buy time for Sirius and Harry . This should be an easy task for the werewolf, considering his creditable acting skills as previously seen by the other two.

By the time Yelker's cell door has opened, Harry and Sirius would have snuck onto the west entry of the rocky island in their disillusioned animagus forms. At this point, when the minimal amount of human authority there was completely focused on Remus, they would make their way into the cell of Bellatrix Lestrange.

At approximately 4:00 pm, the Dementors would be ending their sixth round of patrol for the day. The short amount of time left when the Dementors are rounding up their late-afternoon patrols would equate to fifteen minutes, in which Sirius and Harry would barge into the cell, incapacitate Bellatrix, and force the truth serum down her throat to answer their questions. Directly afterwards, they would completely erase her memories of their visit, including any memories she might of had about Remus's disguised visit. They would also have to eradicate any potential traces of their break-in, for safety precautions.

After leaving her in her cell, drugged to wake up after three hours, Harry and Sirius would revert to their animagus forms, and slip out one of the two exits at the same time Remus was escorted out. There, they would travel via their animal forms back to the mainland, and wait for Remus to meet in the the port of Nyborg, in Denmark. Denmark, strangely, being the country closest to where Azkaban was located. Somehow, Harry had figured it would be closest to Britain.

Sirius had explained this in careful detail, even including the names of the prisoners to the left and right of their targets (Bellatrix Lestrange as the goal, and Quintin Yelker as a means to get it) and other unnecessary information.

The only part he could not be certain of was the mental stability of Quintin Yelker himself. Sirius had been sure to choose an inmate who had been there for a long time. The man had been there for fourteen years so far, and would most likely be either, A) completely deranged, or B) almost completely deranged. However, they had admitted, there was a slight chance that Yelker would not be crazy.

Of course, it was unlikely. The only person Harry had ever heard of having been able to stay in Azkaban and _not _go insane for such a prolonged period of time was their very own Sirius Black. Harry couldn't help but feel a small surge of pride for the version of his godfather he'd known since third year.

Nevertheless, even despite this brief burst of pride, Harry's predominant emotion was still complete and utter shock.

He supposed he shouldn't have underestimated Sirius, as he had prior to this. Somehow, he'd had trouble imagining that a man who still laughed uproariously at fart jokes would be a good strategist - not that he would ever tell Sirius this. Harry had been wrong on all accounts, and this was something that did not happen often.

This plan was far better than anything Harry could have cooked up, and, judging by Remus's flabbergasted expression, better than Remus could have done as well. Sure, it wasn't the most original plan ever- it was the classic, "distract and invade" category, but still! Everything was planned out to a tee. For gods' sake, Sirius had even figured out the inmates next to Bellatrix!

"Who would've thought that all those times planning prank strategies would come in handy one day," Remus said weakly, still staring dazedly at Sirius's embarrassed expression. Sirius chuckled a bit.

"I guess so. But this is a far cry from Dungbombs..." he replied, muttering the last part mostly to himself.

"Yeah..." Harry said, still at a complete loss of words. Sirius scowled, looking a little bit offended.

"Are you both really so surprised that I can think up a plan for something other than pranking?" He asked, looking hurt despite the mock outraged expression he tried to put on. Harry gave a ghost of a smile, still mostly shocked.

"No," Harry answered, finding his tongue. "Anyone can think up a plan with enough time and resources. But you created... this-" Harry outstretched his arms, gesturing helplessly to the pile of papers where Sirius had written his plan down in detail, "-in _four days!_"

Sirius narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" Harry couldn't withhold his bark of laughter, and Remus echoed him.

"The exact opposite, Padfoot," Remus assured him, giving him a pat on the back. "Hell, this method trumps anything I've ever seen created by _Dumbledore!_" Sirius sat up a little in pride, though he didn't look at all convinced that he was better than the wizened Headmaster at anything.

"_Anyways,_" Sirius prompted exaggeratedly, "what do we have to do now?" There was silence as they pondered his question. They had planned to begin their scheme at around 2:00 pm the day after tomorrow, with Harry and Sirius heading towards Azkaban.

Harry thought hard for a couple of seconds, then finally realized something. "Well, Remus can't be the official interrogator anymore, as he's going to be the distraction and won't actually be having contact with Bellatrix, so we'll need to learn his questions and somehow manage to bring the Veritaserum with us when we go to Azkaban," Harry pointed out. Remus looked a bit put out by this, but didn't argue.

"Okay," Sirius said slowly, contemplating this new change in plan. "Wait, Harry, one of the powers of a phoenix is to carry heavy loads, right?"

"Yes, but since I'm only a phoenix animagus, I can't do that," Harry replied, more than a bit confused. "Why?"

"There's a slight change to the plan," Sirius announced, sitting up from where he'd been lying on the couch. "Instead of me swimming, and you flying to Azkaban - I'm going to be _carried_." He emphasised on the last word, a triumphant grin on his face. Harry was confused.

"But I just told you I ca-" he started, but Sirius cut him off.

"I'm not going to be carried by _you_," he corrected. "_You're_ going to be carrying the vial of Veritaserum in your claws. _Izlanzi_ is going to be carrying me." He grinned.

Harry laughed out loud. It was perfect! Not only would they be able to fly the seven miles to the island in a matter of minutes, but he would get to see Izlanzi again!

Harry had missed her terribly over the last few weeks they'd been Horcrux-hunting, and, frankly, he had been thinking up excuses to be able to see her. Harry smiled widely, while Sirius beamed with pride over his latest plan.

"Should I call her now?" Harry asked Sirius, feeling strange that _he _was actually requesting permission for once.

"Erm- yeah," Sirius replied, looking even more freaked out than Harry by the brief change of positions. "We'll need to fill her in on the plan, too."

"Are you planning on having her wait at Azkaban until we get out?" Remus, who had been primarily quiet for the duration of the discussion, asked. Sirius considered.

"What do you guys think?" He asked. Harry and Remus blinked, looking up from their projects.

"I don't know..." Remus said. "Aren't you the strategist?" Sirius blushed a bit, which to Harry was a first.

"Well, yeah, but I don't have to be the only person with any say. Harry's the leader of the this hunt, and he doesn't do that," Sirius replied. Said leader of the Horcrux Hunt colored, and smiled. Harry was glad they didn't think him a dictator, but all the same-

"I'm just going to call Izlanzi now."

No one argued.

It was 1:30pm, on Sunday, May 30th. Thirty minutes before Harry would fly and Sirius would be carried by Izlanzi to Azkaban. Thirty days until Harry would disappear from the year 1978, and would be sucked back to his own time.

Thirty seconds until Harry would have to narrowly avoid having his black shoes retched on by an extremely anxious Sirius.

Sirius, Harry and Izlanzi were sitting together companionably just within the tree line of a rocky beach in Denmark, a scant few miles away from the town they'd decided to meet in after the entire scheme had been carried out. The strange group sat in silence, each thinking about and reviewing their own parts. Then, without warning, Sirius vomited. Thankful for his quick instincts, Harry raised his feet high, Sirius's breakfast missing them narrowly.

"Sorry," Sirius apologized a few seconds later, looking disgusted at the mess he had created as he used a nearby leaf to wipe his mouth. Normally, they would have just conjured a towel, but as Remus' reading had revealed, Azkaban had magic detection wards reaching over ten miles from the walls in all directions. They were created to sense any magic cast with a wand or other magic channeling item. Luckily for the group, animagus forms didn't trigger it, but as they were sitting seven miles from the rocky island at the moment, any wand magic would be detected.

At this very moment, Remus, who was already in his disguise (temporary weight-gain, light blonde hair and all) was being tested to make sure he was authorized to visit Azkaban. This testing was something Harry, Sirius and he had anticipated, and Remus was well prepared for it. In fact, these tests were the reason they weren't able to simply use a Glamour Charm on Remus, instead of going through the trouble of dying his hair and using potions. Glamour Charms were something they were sure to check for.

_What time did you say you plan to leave, Harry?_ Izlanzi asked, twisting her long neck towards him and cocking her head in a manner of curiosity.

_A little less than thirty minutes, now, _he replied distractedly. _At 2:00. _

_Are you sure we shouldn't leave early, just in case? _She said, looking a bit nervous. _I mean, it cannot hurt, can it?_

_No, _replied Harry firmly. _We're going exactly on schedule. _

That was the end of that. Though not appeased, Izlanzi was accepting of his decision and she settled back into a resting position to wait out the last thirty minutes until they would leave. Sirius raised one eyebrow at Harry in curiosity, and Harry quickly filled him in on the conversation.

The next twenty-five minutes passed slowly to Harry. Harry was acutely aware of the pain the stones he was sitting on were causing by digging into his backside, but he didn't move an inch. A little bit of physical discomfort seemed too inconsequential to consider at the moment.

Finally, it was time.

Together, they walked down to the very edge of the beach. Turning towards each other, Sirius and Harry cast Disillusionment spells on the other in synchronisation. Harry then turned to Izlanzi, and cast the same spell on her. The phoenix didn't look overly happy about it, but she gave no protest. Closing his eyes in concentration, there was a few seconds' pause before Harry's body transformed into the form of a phoenix- a Disillusioned one, at that. Harry turned his - now feathered - neck to look at Sirius, who was in the last throes of his transformation into a dog.

It was strange, looking at a Disillusioned Sirius. You could only really see the outline of his body, and an almost heatwave-like substance making up his body. Frankly speaking, Sirius was as obvious as a tuna fish at a shark convention; but unless you were looking for him, he was practically invisible.

Harry gave a smile, and extended one of his claws to grab the small vial of Veritaserum lying next to him. He gripped it tightly in his claws, making absolutely sure he didn't let go. If he accidentally let go of it, the entire planning period, the money spent, not to mention their precious time would all be for naught.

The similarly camouflaged Izlanzi carefully grabbed Sirius by the scruff of his neck, taking care not to hurt him with her considerably long talons. It looked like an uncomfortable position for both passenger and the pilot herself, but it was only a brief trip, Harry assured himself.

Then - Izlanzi in a more practiced motion than Harry - the two phoenixes took flight - spreading their long wings and catching an air current. Sirius let loose a small yelp of surprise as Izlanzi soared upwards, followed closely by Harry. The chilled air ruffled Harry's feathers, and for a second, he almost forgot their objective in the perfection of that single moment of weightlessness.

But Harry quickly shook the feeling away, tipping the ends of his nimble wings to make a slight bank to the right. In front of him, the wavering form of Izlanzi and Sirius looked like some strange form of Hippogriff - Sirius's four legs dangling helplessly beneath Izlanzi's outstretched wingspan.

Adverse to the ages it had taken for the thirty minute wait to pass, the seven minutes it took to fly from coastal Denmark to the rocky shore of Azkaban Island seemed to take barely a few minutes. Then again, Harry was hardly surprised at this revelation. There was nothing more boring and time consuming than sitting and waiting.

By the time Harry, Sirius, and Izlanzi landed quietly near one of the many walls of Azkaban, Harry's avian heart was beating so hard he thought it might have made an indent on his chest. The island of Azkaban was desolate. The older Sirius hadn't said much about his twelve years imprisoned there, but it gave Harry shivers to think of being there for so long. It was terrible, even with the lesser awareness to the Dementors he had while an animagus.

The island was larger than he'd pictured, even with all the ratios he'd looked up to figure out what it would look like. The stone prison itself took up most of the island. In fact, the fifteen foot outcrop of rough, sharp rocks on all sides of the fortress was the only non-enclosed piece of land on the island. Next to him sat a panting, partially invisible Sirius and an annoyed sounding Izlanzi perched delicately on one of the many rocks - positioned so as not to cut her feet on the sharp stones.

The actual building of Azkaban itself was a million times worse than the island, even with the frigid, white-capped waves crashing down barely a few feet from the intruders. The turreted, fifty-foot walls were made completely of black stone, the lower ten feet or so of it wet from years of waves dashing violently against the the black stone. There were tiny windows scattered around the edge of the wall in no particular order, each no bigger than Harry's head, and barred with iron bars as thick as Harry's wrist. The outer wall was oval-shaped, with only two doors - one of which was visible at this moment, positioned around twenty yards to their right.

However, topping even the scare-factor induced by the grim structure, it was what was above it that really sent shivers down Harry's spine. Around a hundred feet above where Sirius and Harry sat panting, scores of Dementors circled. Easily as much as Harry had faced in his third year, protecting Sirius. They blotted out what little sun was visible through the stormy cumulus clouds above them, their tattered black cloaks flying in high wind.

As was the plan, neither Harry, not Sirius said a word. They remained stoic, sitting uncomfortably in their forms. The only disturbance was when Harry turned back into a human for a second, only to morph into his snow leopard form a second later. As they had tested, Harry remained Disillusioned the entire time, even in his new form. Even in that brief second of being human on Azkaban was terrible. Cold washed over Harry, forbibly pulling the happiness out of him, leaving him with only increased anxiousness over their mission, and sadness. Once in his snow leopard form, the feelings deceased to only uneasiness; a fact Harry was extremely thankful for. Once in feline form, he cautiously picked up the bottle of Veritaserum (which he had placed carefully on a rock) in his jaws, taking extreme care not to crush or drop it.

It was dreary work, waiting for Remus to arrive to visit the prison. As they'd planned, Remus would be showing up in fifteen minutes from the present: at 2:30pm. Until then, Harry and Sirius kept their distance from the thick, metal, Dementor-guarded doors at the entryway.

If at all possible, it seemed to take even longer than the endless Denmark-wait for Remus to arrive. But, finally, arrive he did. When Remus stepped out of the small motor boat that had brought him to the little island, Harry barely even recognized him. In fact, if he hadn't been expecting this appearance, he never would have connected the kindly, tawny-haired teenager to the haughty-looking, blonde looking a good five years older than Remus. Not to mention his ridiculous clothes; from the purple, velvet waistcoat and green pants, and a floppy black hat with a tall red feather. All in all, he looked completely ridiculous.

Hurrying over to the enforced door, taking care to keep silent, they crouched low to the ground and waited as Remus got of the boat.

"-quite certain?" The man escorting him was asking, walking up to the doors and fumbling with the key ring around his belt.

"Very much so, Mr. Mandell," Remus replied in a thick German accent. "My second cousin Quintin and I were very close before his incarceration... pity he strayed off the right track, if you ask me."

Even Remus's voice gave no connotation that he was a Lupin, so well disguised it was. The ferryman and the guard (the only humans present) looked doubtful. "If you say so, Mr. Yelker," the guard replied, finally finding the right key and inserting it into the lock. Sirius and Harry bunched their muscles, sneaking up until they were a scant few feet from Remus. Harry, with his exaggerated senses, could literally hear their hearts beating - Remus's much faster than Mandell's or the guard's.

The ferryman held the door open for Remus, who paused a second, letting the door stay suspended - held by the grey-haired man. "Excuse me, how much time do I have with my dear cousin?" he asked conversationally. But this was all the time Sirius and Harry needed. Twisting and slinking around the guards and keeping low enough to the ground so there was extremely little chance anyone would see them, they slid through the door, Sirius making his way through first. As they had planned, Harry tapped Remus's leg twice in rapid succession with his tail to communicate that they'd made it through.

Though it was barely perceptible, Remus looked relieved; luckily, he passed it off a being happy he was allowed a long as he wanted with "dear cousin Quintin."

Sirius, who had been leading until then, now fell back. This was Harry's area of expertise. This was where the evil map came in. Knowing they had limited time, but not wanting to rush the process, Harry sat down on his haunches in the corner of the small room they had entered next to Sirius's shimmering form. He closed his eyes, and the map appeared in his head. From here, he needed to go straight, past two hallways. Then, he would turn a right, then another right, then a left.

Harry began walking, sneaking past Remus and the guard and heading towards where they needed to go. Sirius followed, equally silent. It was eerie, knowing they were in Azkaban. If Harry didn't know better, he would have said the place reminded him of the Department of Mysteries... the black, dimly lit hallways... everything. As they neared what Harry knew was the beginning of the first cell block, where prisoners were held, it began to get loud.

There were no horror-movie screams, and no blood dripping down the walls. It was just the groaning. Harry turned down the corridor, and could see inmates in their cells on each sides of the hallway. Around nine out of ten of them looked catatonic, blankly staring at nothing in particular. The groaning was louder now, and endless. It reminded Harry of the roar of the sea, each wave defined, but combined into a monotone. Somewhere to his right, he heard someone trying to muffle the sounds of crying. Harry swallowed, but forced himself not to look at the faces of the people here.

Harry, still meticulously following the memorized map, turned down another hallway... then another, and another, and another. Until, finally, they reached the high-security vaults. This section was practically the same as the rest; with the exception that the Dementor's rounds were seven times per day, not four like the rest of the prison. Add to this the thicker window bars, and that each cell was silenced so the prisoners couldn't even talk to each other nor see each other, and it Azkaban turned from hell on earth, to pure, unadulterated Hell.

Counting the cells with care, Harry stalked further down the dimly lit hallway. Finally, when he had counted exactly twenty-seven passed cells (a number he'd double-checked) he stopped at a concrete door without any way to see what was inside. As the rooms were silenced, there was no inclination what she was doing. Was Bellatrix Lestrange asleep? Was she awake? Harry had a sudden feeling of dread. _What if she somehow manages to escape? It would be completely our fault!_

_But no,_ he convinced himself, _we're the ones with the wands. She's weak from the Dementors, and lack of food. We're fine. _

Finally, the most meticulous part of their plan came into place. Taking in the last moment of feeling mostly Dementor-free, Harry turned back into a human. Harry knew at once that any preparation he'd been doing for this part of the mission had been of no use. Even before he was fully physically transformed, he could feel the cold wash over him. Not just the carnal cold from the large, drafty prison, but the mental cold. Fear, pain, and excruciating sadness practically permeated the room. Harry had to refrain from falling on his knees.

Only the vitality of their mission kept him from succumbing to flashbacks. Trying in vain to focus, Harry retrieved his wand shakily from his pocket, and pointed it at the door handle.

_Alohomora,_ he thought, not really expecting it to work. Not much to his surprise, it didn't, remaining as steadfast as a wall. Harry shuddered uncontrollably. Even with no direct Dementor presence, he was near wanting to cast an _Expecto Patronum_ Charm... luckily, they had planned for the basic unlocking charm not to work.

_Nullus Carcer,_ he thought again, pouring more magic into the spell this time. This particular spell had been the most advanced unlocking spell they'd managed to find. To Harry's great relief, the door opened with a small, "_click!"_

It creaked open, and Harry was thankful that the other inmates could not hear what was going on. Harry picked up the bottle of Veritaserum he'd been carrying in this mouth during his time as a snow leopard, holding his wand pointing towards the door. Sirius, who had changed back and was looking nearly as shaky as Harry from the Dementors, pointed his wand into the door. Slowly, they walked in.

The smell was the first thing Harry noticed. It was all consuming, and Harry had to fight his instincts not to drop his wand and slap his hands over his nose in disgust. The room was tiny, and Harry tried to keep images of Sirius being locked up in such a small room for twelve years out of his head. It was around the size of an average bathroom, with only one heavily barred window as a source of both fresh air and light. And even that was hardly any relief. In the corner, there was a small overflowing chamber pot. Vomit was splattered around the window, an obvious attempt to throw up outside, instead of in her tiny room. Luckily, as the sun rose in the east, and set in the west, the sun was tilted nearly outside her window - allowing a small amount of light into the dank cell.

And then there was Bellatrix herself. If Harry had thought she looked crazy when he'd seen her other times, he was hastily corrected here. She was passed out in the middle of the dark cell, her filthy black hair obscuring her face. Said hair was tangled beyond belief, hanging at only her shoulders in a gigantic, bun-like knot. Her normally proud features were pulled into a distressed expression, and her face was covered in smeared dirt and (as everything else seemed to be) sick. She wore an ugly, tan prison uniform with a sewn label on the upper right corner announcing her as prisoner number 9147021.

Harry and Sirius were disgusted, Sirius looking almost sorry for his cousin as they took of the Disillusionment Charms - no point in keeping up the magical drain, or having such inconvenience.

"What now?" Sirius whispered realizing he hadn't thought of how to get the Veritaserum in her. Harry thought, taking in her sordid appearance and crazy mutterings.

"We won't be able to get her to take it if we wake her up," Harry answered, equally quiet. "Here, lift her head up, and I'll just tip the potion in." Sirius nodded, and walked over to his cousin, crouching by her. Then, careful both not to wake her or to touch her filthy clothes or body too much, he lifted her head, and gently pushed her mouth open. Harry crept over, popping open the bottle of Veritaserum.

He was about to pour the contents down her throat, when suddenly, Bellatrix convulsed, nearly causing him to spill the precious potion. Her dark, heavy-lidded eyes crazy, she stood up, scratching at the walls like a deranged animal.

Sirius, who had been pushed down onto the ground by her sudden fit glared. Sirius reached for his wand, when suddenly she let out a high, ear-splitting keen.

"Eeeeeeeehhh!" She screeched, nearly causing Harry to drop the potion for the second time that day. Sirius fumbled with his wand in surprise as Bellatrix lunged at him, face contorted into a feral expression as she saw the wand that could mean her escape. It was only two leaps across the entire room. She was in the air, flying savagely, when Harry finally was able to get his wand, and hit her.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry yelled, abandoning all pretense of being quiet. The walls were silenced, anyways. He'd only been being quiet so as not to wake the sleeping woman. Bellatrix Lestrange collapsed bonelessly, bony fingers and claw-like nails outstretched so far they were a scarce few inches from Sirius's feet. Sirius looked sick.

"That-that..." Sirius tried to say, but he wasn't able to form the words. Harry's heart was thudding loudly.

"Come on," said Harry hurriedly. "Let's make this quick." Far less gentle than last time, Sirius yanked her head up, holding her by the knot of hair on the back of her scull. Without any further ado, Harry poured the potion down her mouth, not even caring as a little bit slopped out of her gaping, chapped mouth.

There was a second of no change, and suddenly, Harry was struck by a bolt of fear. What if it only worked when the participant was awake? No, no... that wasn't true. Barty Crouch Jr. had been unconscious when Dumbledore had questioned him with it in Harry's fourth year. He gave a sigh of relief when Bellatrix's body shuddered again, and her eyes opened, glazed over.

"What is your name?" Sirius asked, looking down at the list of questions he'd gotten from Remus.

"Bellatrix Druella Lestrange," she replied tonelessly. Harry, the note taker, didn't feel the need to write this down of the bit of parchment he'd brought for this same reason.

"Are you a Death Eater?" Sirius said, though by his tone, he thought it unnecessary.

"Yes," she replied. Harry rolled his eyes, also feeling it had been an unnecessary question. However, there was no delay until the next one.

"Are you aware of the location of the Emergency Route and Security Measures paperwork for the Lestrange vault in Gringotts bank?" Sirius asked, not squandering their precious time on unimportant questions. Harry looked up. This was the big question... the one that would tell if the whole trip was for naught...

"Yes," Bellatrix Lestrange replied, though after the smallest of pauses. Harry thought he could see a brief flash of confusion and anger flit across her expression.

"Where is it?"

"It is hidden in the Lestrange Summer home, within the copy of Jarvis Gershwinn's _Pureblood Heritage Through the Ages _between the 278th and 279th pages."

Harry and Sirius grinned to each other, a strange expression in such a dismal place. There was a pause as Sirius tried to decide which question to ask next.

"Where is the Lestrange Summer home?" He finally asked. One again, Bellatrix looked as if she were struggling against herself.

"In France, the city of Calais. 8720 NE 130th Avenue," she finally said, giving a little squeak of anger at the end.

"Thanks, Bella," Sirius said smugly. "It's much appreciated." For the first time, Harry walked into Bellatrix Lestrange's field of vision.

"Come on, Sirius, we're done he-" Harry started to say, but stopped mid-sentence, a mix between horrified and amazed.

Bellatrix Lestrange was staring at Harry in as hateful an expression as he'd ever seen on anyone other than Voldemort. Her black eyes were looking at him intensely, and somehow, in her semi-conscious state, she was trying to get up. Her limbs shook with effort as she attempted to get to her feet, staggering. Sirius and Harry were literally unable to move from shock and (though Harry was loathe to admit it) slight commendation for her devotion to Voldemort, even post-mortem.

_How is this happening? _Harry thought rapidly, scrambling for his wand in his pocket as Bellatrix initiated her second attack attempt. Stunned into surprise, he'd barely managed to retrieve his wand when Bellatrix Lestrange was stuck down. This time, by Sirius. This time, without a wand.

Sirius punched Bellatrix Lestrange in the middle of her stomach as hard as he could. Her eyes widened to an unprecedented size, white showing all around the edges of her irises. Sirius grimaced vindictively.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," said Sirius, looking up at Harry. Harry gave a small smile, mostly still shaken. The feeling was only increased by the swarm of Dementors in the prison.

Though Bellatrix was out cold, Harry couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"Come on, let's go. I'll just Oblivate her first..." Harry, summoning up all the knowledge and time it had taken to learn to Oblivate via the book he'd requested from Dumbledore, pointed his wand towards the rasping woman scrunched up on the ground.

Closing his eyes, he thought of what he wanted her to remember. _She will remember only a normal day. Only a normal day. Only a normal day..._ "_Oblivate!_"

The blue beam of light flew from Harry's wand, and hit the crumpled witch. A blue halo came up around her, and lifted her body an inch above the ground before extinguishing as rapidly as it had appeared and dropping her with an ungraceful thumping noise.

She lay unconscious on the ground as if they had never been there. Harry felt a shiver up his spine; half the work of Dementors, half of what he had just done. It wasn't exactly a dark spell, per se, but somehow it just felt... _wrong_ to forcibly take away someones memory like that. Harry shook off the feeling. This was_ Bellatrix Lestrange_ they were talking about here. The woman who had killed Sirius, and tortured the Longbottoms among hundreds of other crimes.

Harry checked his watch. 4:14 in the afternoon. Things were going surprisingly well. They had finished with just enough time to change back into their animal forms and sneak past the Dementors that would be coming down this hallway in their sixth shift of the day in barely two minutes. Tipping one last potion into Bellatrix's mouth (to keep her unconscious for another three hours) Harry squeezed the empty crystal vials out the tightly barred window and into the crashing ocean. Striding briskly, he stepped out of the cell, casting one last fleeting glance at the unconscious woman before shutting the door as silently as he could, and locking it with more locking charms than was probably necessary.

Following Sirius's lead, Harry closed his eyes and transformed back into his snow leopard form. When they were in their animal guises, the Dementors wouldn't be able to feel their emotions, or realize they were there. Only when he was once again physically an animal did he realized exactly how much he had been effected by the Dementors haunting Azkaban. It was like night and day. Harry felt muscles he hadn't even known he was clenching relax fluidly.

No sooner had he secured his new manifestation, then he realized the Dementors were coming down the hallway. Harry had expected this. In fact, it was a bloody miracle that they hadn't run into one close up before now. But it didn't stop the slimy, cold feeling that crept into his very bones as the cloaked figure came closer. Crouched down, and pressing against the wall, Harry refrained from whining. Even with the effects diminished, being so near to a Dementor was no walk in the park.

Keeping his eyes fixed securely on the three cloaked figures, he and Sirius watched as they drifted off, gliding a few inches above the ground. Though he could hear nothing through the silenced walls of the high security section of Azkaban prison, Harry could literally feel the screams and fear the creatures were causing through the walls. Harry's furry, whiskered face contorted. He couldn't even imagine how horrible it must be to be imprisoned here.

Harry and Sirius practically ran away from the Dementor patrol, Harry's scattered mind keeping to the path they needed purely out of the hours of mental practice he'd done in their modest hotel room a million miles from where they were now. Once they were safely away, Padfoot let out a whine, cowering nearer to the wall and shivering.

Harry looked at Sirius with a mixture of pity, and fear. He knew the thoughts going through his head at this moment. Sirius, though he tried to hide it, thought about his future - or the future Harry'd told him - a lot. Far more than Remus, or at times, even Harry. Then again, he had one of the worst futures. His fear of Azkaban had only grown when they had entered the horrific building itself. It was easy to see why only the worst of the worst people were confined there. Azkaban outdid even the Little Hangleton graveyard in terms of fear factor.

Trying to convey his comforting thoughts, Harry nudged Sirius's neck with the tip of his large, black nose. Sirius seemed to get what Harry was trying to communicate and pulled his lips back into a canine grin. Smiling, and sitting back on his haunches, Harry felt glad he'd been able to pull Sirius out of his brief funk.

Sirius and Harry were about three turns away from the west exit - the same one they'd snuck through the first time. Only one corridor away from Cell Block One, which they had passed their first time through. Even through the enforced walls, Harry could hear and whispers of moaning and crying. But Harry chose to ignore this. Laying on the freezing, stone floor in a motion entirely too relaxed for their surroundings, Harry waited. This was the hard part of the plan.

If all had gone well (and Harry desperately hoped it had) then Remus would be finishing up talking to Quintin Yelker. Remus, the human guard, and Quintin were on the other side of the corner Harry and Sirius were crouching next to, the animagi virtually invisible. Sirius and Harry had been waiting for only a few minutes when Harry felt Sirius move from beside him. Harry turned his head, looking at the wavering outline of the dog in confusion.

_What is he doing?_ Harry wondered, half curious, half frantic as Sirius stood and began treading quietly towards where Remus was. _Where's that idiot going?_

Harry seriously considered tackling the dog and forcing him to be quiet, stay still, and above all else, _stick to the plan_, but his curiosity got the better of him. Were Sirius's ears better than his? Did he hear something, and want to expand on it? Praying to whatever entity was out there that this wasn't a mistake of a lifetime, Harry followed.

They had stalked down the hallway for about fifty yards when Harry began to hear raised voices. It was a voice he didn't recognize, Harry realized with a suspicious start.

"-telling you!" The voice said. It was cracked, and sounded like it belonged to someone not accustomed to actually using it. Harry suspected it was a prisoner's, and was surprised that the voice's owner was doing more than the moaning and screaming they'd heard all the other inmates doing.

"Mr. Yelker," another voice said, sounding exasperated, "we have gone over this before. You have been imprisoned here under serious charges for nearly a decade and a half. You are under no circumstances whatsoever to claim-" but he was cut off.

"It is perfectly fine, Mr. Hall," Remus's voice said stiffly in its German accent. Harry started._ Is this the sort of conversation Remus planned on having? _he wondered, sneaking closer, completely having forgotten any reservations he'd had about not going too close. "Quintin and I... well, I suppose our times of brotherhood are long past if he doesn't even remember me." Harry thought he heard Remus give a small, (handkerchief?) muted sniffle.

Harry's heart skipped a beat._ Could Quintin Yelker actually... not be insane? _He wondered, his noticeably green eyes widening at the implications._ But that would mean-_

The person Harry assumed to be the human guard escorting Remus sounded uncomfortably. "It's nothing new, Mr. Yelker," he said. "I've had to help many a distraught family through these halls. For some reason, they all seem to believe that their son or daughter or whatever is going to be one one in a million who's strong enough to get through this hell-hole sane..."

He trailed off when he seemed to realize this probably wasn't helping. Remus gave a small, indiscriminate cough. Quintin Yelker, on the other hand, didn't have the same polite reservations.

"I'm sane, you bumbling idiots!" He yelled, and a metallic pounding sound ensued. Harry assumed he'd banged his fists against the bars of his cell. "And this man, whoever he is, is _not my cousin! _There's been a big mistake! GET HIM OUT OF HERE!"

Sirius and Harry winced, ears flipping back onto their heads at the unexpected loud noise. _As if the increased senses aren't bad enough when I'm in human form... _Harry thought, annoyed. However, despite the loud noises now echoing around the sound-proof halls, they proceeded forward. Harry and Sirius were no able to see what was happening clearly.

Only around twenty feet away in the dim hallway, three figures were standing. Each looked gaunt and morose in the lighting. On one side of the dividing bars, there was a prisoner. Harry recognized him from the picture he'd been shown as Quintin Yelker. His hair was somewhere around shoulder-length - apparently, he'd attempted to cut it with something, and only gotten halfway through, because one side of it hung significantly longer than the other. His face was chalky white, and the large arteries in his neck protruded from the discolored jumpsuit covering his skeletal frame.

On the other side Remus was seated, looking slightly regal even in the harsh conditions. Harry had to admire Remus's acting talent. Had he been in the same position as Remus seemed to be ensnared in (his "second cousin" not being crazy, after all) then Harry most likely would have jumped out of character, and stunned everyone, and made a mad dash for the exit - casting Patronuses left and right. Luckily for them all, Remus was not Harry. Next to Remus stood a stiff looking man, the guard. The guard (Mr. Hall, Harry remembered Remus calling him) seemed to be in his late twenties, or early thirties. He had on a professional looking blue and black uniform which clashed horribly with his white blonde hair.

"Quintin-" Remus continued, sounding the epitome of patience. Yelker, however, was not to be cowed.

"Don't '_Quintin'_ me, you impostor! Merlin's beard... can't you just leave a condemned man with as much wits as he can keep in his abyss!" The prisoner's voice had not depleted in volume, and Harry could hear the occupants in neighboring cells snickering and whispering. Harry supposed this was the most interesting thing that had happened all year... maybe even in all of their sentence here in Azkaban. From what he'd heard, visits were rare; what with the Dementors, and all.

Having recovered (or at least managing to ignore) Quintin Yelker's outraged yelling, Harry pushed forward, sneaking forward without a sound until he was hardly ten feet away from the congregation of aggravated people. Carefully treading around the irritated guard, Harry approached Remus and poked him with the tip of his nose. It was just hard enough to be felt, but Remus reacted as if an electric shock had run through him. He gave a little jump, and his head jerked to the side for a second as if he almost looking down to where Harry had nudged him, then deciding better halfway through.

Luckily for Harry's Azkaban-fried nerves, Remus's verbal response was timed far better. Choosing a slight breathing break in the strained conversation, Remus spoke, allowing stress to seep its way into his words.

"Perhaps- perhaps it would be best if I were to leave," he admitted, giving his "relative" a regretful gaze. Quintin looked relieved.

"Finally! You people are making some sense no-" but the relieved prisoner was finally cut off by the guard, who had retrieved his wand from the pocket of his uniform and cast a Silencing Charm on him.

"Sorry," the Mr. Hall said, not looking at all so. "Do you mind?" Remus shook his head, summoning up yet more emotional depth and displaying it.

"No... that's not the Quintin I knew," Remus said sadly. Though still silenced, Quintin Yelker banged his fists against the bars, shouting wordlessly. Harry thought he could make out the mouthed words, "imbeciles," and "sue."

Mr. Hall, the guard, attempted to look sympathetic as he ushered Remus out of the room, offering him a scuffed and slightly burnt handkerchief from his pocket, which Remus politely refused.

Harry and Sirius, in their respective forms, followed Mr. Hall out through the corridors. Having been hopelessly distracted by the spectacle that was Quintin Yelker, Harry had forgotten exactly where they had been - so he supposed it was by a stroke of luck that they were able to follow someone out of the intricate maze.

Harry couldn't help but notice the dramatic increase in Dementors as they neared the West Exit. They were literally everywhere. Floating eerily as close as ten feet from Harry's feline form. Luckily for Remus, who had the short end of the stick as he had no animagus form to blunt the force of their power, Mr. Hall seemed used to this and (with an unexpected ease) was keeping a _Patronus_ Shield erect as they walked.

Sirius especially was careful to stay directly behind the hurrying men, trying to garner as much of the shield's effects as he could.

Harry's eyes were squinted tightly in the physical effort not to succumb to the painful memories he was always subjected to when the cloaked creatures came near. At first, he thought he had been successful. It had, after all, worked rather nicely when they had passed small patrols of Dementors in the hallways in the High Security block. They were only thirty or so yards from the exit - the brass shining brightly against the omnipresent dimness, when it hit full force.

Harry couldn't stop himself. He had gotten cocky, he admitted. They were so close... Harry had started to go quicker, taking less care to stay quiet and far away from the hovering Dementors. He had gotten within only ten feet or so. It was that proximity to the soul-sucking monsters that really did it.

His mind became a blur, not able to focus on anything other than sounds he knew for a fact to be purely memory. _A woman's scream... ghostly whispering... even what he thought might be the squeak of some rodent... _

_Don't you dare collapse on me, _Harry thought fiercely, mind attempting to overpower his body's natural instinct to give into the depression and faint. _I'm so close...! _But it was obvious even to Harry that he wasn't going to be able to make it. Harry's animal body collapsed in a heap of light colored fur when he was a mere fifteen yards from the door, and a mere seven feet from two Dementors.

Strangely his mind still refused to shut down as it usually did when he strayed so close to Dementors. It was only his body that collapsed, causing a muffled thumping noise that echoed in an incriminatory manner around the hall. Mr. Hall and Remus halted in surprise. They turned around, faces expressing complete opposite emotions. Remus's face was shocked, and scared - his eyes wide under the disguised fleshy skin of his face.

Mr. Hall, the guard, looked very much the contrary. His face showed not even the barest sliver of suspicion or fear, to Harry's great relief. Only confusion, and curiosity. Harry's knees were still trembling as he laid down on the cold floor, not daring to move in fear that the inquisitive guard would notice the rippling air. Remus suddenly seemed to realize what Harry was doing by staying so still and gave the guard's lapels a not-so-gentle tug towards the door - restarting a conversation or whatnot.

As soon as the Mr. Halls's head was turned, Harry felt Sirius's teeth biting into the scruff of his neck. It took all of Harry's battle-hardened self control not to let out a hiss at this invasion of privacy... and by a _dog_, no less!

The Dementors, who had turned their cloaked heads towards where the thumping sound had originated but not ventured any closer, continued after Remus, gliding at his same pace in what had to have been a practiced formation. Harry immediately felt the effects of Mr. Hall's Patronus Shield wear off and felt sick to his stomach, clenching his abdominal muscles in a valiant attempt not to throw up on the first available surface. Only the acute pain of Sirius's canines holding him up kept him from fainting, or worse, crying out.

The next fifteen feet or so were the longest of Harry's life. Both physical and mental pain surrounded him with such intensity that it was a miracle he didn't give in to the urge to collapse. In the back of his mind, visions caused by the Dementors close at hand had begun, and Harry had the strangest feeling that if he paid attention to them or focused on them, he would black out. As such, he avoided them, thinking of anything and everything other than that.

Once again, Remus was stalling, keeping the door open. He had been doing it for longer than he had had to the first time, due to Harry's slowed pace. Harry couldn't tell what Remus was saying or doing that was keeping the guard holding the door, but the guard was getting impatient. Quite a few times in the relatively short time he had been propping up the brass and hardwood door he had rotated his head nervously to ensure no one was making a run for the open door. The guard had only just interrupted Remus with words Harry couldn't hear, being too busy not concentrating on the memories playing out in the back of his head, when Sirius gave a massive tug - teeth grinding into Harry's skin.

Harry very nearly yelped, and it was by sheer luck that the combined effort of Harry's surprise and a massive shove on Sirius's part managed to get both of the out of the door just in time to hear it slam deafeningly a scant few inches behind the tip of Harry's sleek tail. Remus looked on the verge of having a panic attack, not knowing whether Sirius and Harry had made it though in time, and Sirius gave him a comforting bump on the leg to let him know they'd passed through. Remus's tight expression relaxed, relief seeping onto his features.

Remus and the guard joined the ferryman, who had come up from the boat loading area to escort Remus (though he looked unnerved at the four Dementors guarding their procession), noticed Remus's change in expression. They looked a bit confused but said nothing.

Now back on rocky spit of land surrounding the dismal fortress, Sirius and Harry departed from the procession and scurried away as fast as their paws could carry them. Only when they were out of both sight and hearing range (for Sirius, anyway - Harry could still hear what was going on with his magically enhanced senses) did they stop. Now far from the Dementors who had been guarding Remus so closely, Harry collapsed into a heap of fur white and black fur.

Sirius, following protocol to a tee, said nothing, not even changing back into his human form. High above, they knew Izlanzi was circling - waiting for their signal. Harry and Sirius, however, were not quite ready to give said signal. Both males were far too preoccupied with resting their minds, which had been moving purely on adrenaline for the better part of two hours.

Together, still not saying a word, they panted; resting for a good ten minutes. Harry ran over what had happened in his head... their arrival on the island of Azkaban, entry to Azkaban itself, questioning Bellatrix, Remus's trouble with Yelker, and getting out. In his mind, it seemed surreal; more like a well-known story than something he had lived through himself. Even more surreal was the fact that nothing had gone vitally wrong. It seemed things he did like this always went wrong.

Finally rested, Harry sat up, and looked around. Sirius was still collapsed on the rocks, pressing against the wall of the prison in a valiant attempt to stay dry. Harry lifted his chin and looked at the stormy sky to make sure the Dementors weren't close enough to make a huge effect. When he was sure they were far enough away, Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and switched his form back into that of a human.

As he'd planned, Harry remained in his natural form for barely two seconds before his bones began shrinking and becoming hollow to accommodate for his phoenix form. Once he had fully finished the transformation, he turned to Sirius, who was looking at him with slight awe. Harry shifted, a bit embarrassed at Sirius's unabashed staring.

Giving a graceful nod of the head, Harry signaled to the dog animagus to get ready. Sirius stood from where he'd been laying on the sharp rocks and turned his black head to the sky.

_Izlanzi!_ Harry said mentally, projecting his thoughts as far as he could. _We're ready to leave! Come out! _

For a few seconds, there as no change. A pang of fear coursed through Harry's body. _What if Izlanzi got caught by Dementors? What if she fell into the ocean?_ He thought fervently, scanning the sky for her gold, black and red plumage.

He was about to call out a second time, when he caught sight of a red spot on the horizon. Harry turned his head towards it, squinting so he could see it better. His eyes focused, and he was able to make out long wings and a swan-like neck. His nerves relaxed. It was Izlanzi. Speeding at a rate much faster than would have been possible for any other creature, the phoenix zoomed towards them. Sirius steeled himself, shutting his eyes tightly. Harry grinned a little at this.

Then, her speed seeming to pick up as she neared them, she flew right into Sirius; not stopping even to better the comfort of the situation for either participants. Grabbing the scruff of his neck in her yellow talons as she had before, Izlanzi swooped upwards. Unable to hold it in, Sirius let out a piercing yowl as his eyes snapped open and his legs began to flail in the air. Luckily, the high winds seemed to carry his voice far from the circling Dementors above.

Harry took off, skimming over the rough ocean around thirty feet beneath the airborne dog. Against his instincts, Harry tipped his wings and sped upwards, flying next to Sirius so as to comfort the freaked man. Upon seeing Harry, Sirius relaxed some, allowing Izlanzi to better grip him from the slightly precarious position he'd been before.

The flight seemed even shorter than it had on their way there as they kept near to the choppy water below them. The cold wind whipped at Harry's feathers, occasionally sending frigid splashes of water onto him. Speeding as fast as he could, they reached the Danish shore in record time; taking a mere five minutes of flight time. The pointed evergreen trees greeted them as they landed on the wet sand and rounded rocks of the beach. The second he hit the ground, Harry transformed back into his human form. The reprieve was instantaneous, as he no longer felt the repressing terror always caused by the Dementors.

Struggling to get to his feet, Harry stood on unstable legs. The (still Disillusioned) form of Izlanzi was standing on the beach, head outstretched over Sirius's. Sirius, on the other hand, was laying on his back, panting from the sheer emotional exhaustion the terrifying flight had given him. Seeing him conscious and well, Harry summoned his strength and walked over, undoing the Disillusionment charms on himself, Sirius, and Izlanzi before sticking a hand out towards the collapsed form of his friend. Sirius grasped it, and used Harry's weight to pull him up onto his shaky legs.

They stood there together for a minutes, mulling over what they had just done in their heads, and going over the fruits of their labor. Too tired even to speak, Harry gestured towards the barely visible road fifty yards down the beach.

It was going to be a long walk back to their meeting place.

**A/N:** Oh. My. God. This was BY FAR the longest chapter I have ever written, for any story. Ever. EVER. It is over 10,000 words (closer to 11,000, actually). Strangely, it went fast. I barely even had to think as I wrote... this dilemma has been in my head since I first decided to sent them on another Horcrux hunt... ahh.. Good times.

Anyways, I must express wishes for a review - especially with all the work I put into this chapter. Also, I was a bit disappointed when I only received three reviews total for my last chapter... a bit of a letdown, seeing as I have hundreds of people with this on their story alert.

As always, I hope you enjoyed my chapter! If you have any questions, message or review me, and I'll answer. :)


	25. Banking and Breakins

**Disclaimer:** No poseo Harry Potter. (_Russian: I do not own Harry Potter_)

Wow, I've really been on a long-chapter spree these last few updates! By the way - don't forget to vote in my poll about possibly changing my story name on my author page! It's going to be up until late August, most likely.

_Chapter Twenty-Five: Banking and Break-ins_

The part of Harry's plan that entailed breaking into the Lestrange summer home in the French city of Calais was turning out to be surprisingly easy. Harry had suspected nearly impenetrable wards and severing charm traps set at every corner, and was surprised, albeit pleased, to find protection to be minimal, to say the least.

By Harry's best guess, it was a private place, used by only the head of family and their children. This was backed up by the fact that there was no guest room or guest list, like the one he had seen in Neville's summer home- where he had vacationed to along with Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny as a two-week celebration shortly after he'd defeated Voldemort back in his home time.

Because of this extreme level of privacy; Harry doubted anyone outside the Lestrange family, excluding them, even _knew _about the place; they had apparently seen no need to protect it beyond a few simple Muggle-repelling charms and a protection ward an amateur Curse Breaker could have broken through in a minute.

However, despite the easy entry to the house itself, they had found navigating the magically enlarged home to be difficult. The place was practically a _labyrinth_. Each door had a small wooden sign with gothic-styled letters carved upon it, such as "The Observatory," or "The Southernmost Lounge". Harry was forcefully reminded of the time he and Dudley had played the Muggle game "Clue" when they were seven - Harry beating him soundly, as Dudley's only goal was to get the little metal figure of the revolver with Colonel Mustard. Harry, at Dudley's threatening insistence, had been stuck with Miss Scarlet.

Usually during moments like this, the three of them would have cut back the trouble and simply summon the book Bellatrix had specified to hold the bank papers. However, the likelihood that the important documents would fall out was large, and if they didn't know where exactly it was coming from, they wouldn't be able to backtrack its path. Also, according to Sirius, all Gringotts paperwork was made un-Summonable by the goblins, so that outed charming the papers themselves.

That being said, the fact that it was impossible to summon the book did not stop a certain Sirius from complaining rather loudly.

"_Ha~rry..._" he whined, peeking into "House Elf Dormitory #2" before looking back at his future godson. "Can't we just summon the book and take our chances with the papers falling out? We've been here for _ages_..."

"We've been looking for only fifteen minutes, Sirius," Harry responded, trying to fight back a smile, but failing.

"Well,_ yeah_," Sirius said, saying it as if fifteen minutes were equal to an eternity. "Why can't we just-" but whatever Sirius had to say was lost when Harry jerked in surprise, before quickly shoving his hand into his pocket to retrieve something. "What?" Sirius asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and looking at Harry.

Harry rummaged around in his pocket and quickly grabbed the rapidly heating sickle, tapping it with his wand swiftly before it could burn him.

"It's the charmed sickle!" Harry exclaimed excitedly. "Remus found the library!" Sirius's expression brightened drastically. When they had first entered the house, their little group had split into two - Remus going on alone while Sirius and Harry searched together.

"Excellent!" Sirius said. "Where is he?" Harry's smile faltered. With a jolt, he realized that he had no idea how to locate the lycanthrope in the massive house. Hell, it had been a journey within itself to find a bathroom! Of course, they could communicate with Remus through another means other than sickles, but it was a pretty weird way to talk.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, concentrating very hard on his thoughts.

_Izlanzi? _He thought, projecting his voice. _Are you there? _

_When am I not here, Harry? _She asked gently, though her tone suggested the beginnings of sarcasm. Harry didn't rise to the bait, instead choosing to jump directly to his point.

_You're still with Remus, right? For communication purposes?_

_Yes, I am still your breathing cellular telephone, _she responded, and Harry could distinctly hear her miffed distaste of the situation in her words.

_Would it be possible for you to come here and lead Sirius and I to Remus? _Harry asked as politely as possible, realizing this wasn't the time for jokes or even the slightest impolite comment.

_Yes, it is possible, _she replied, her tone immediately cheerful at the suggestion that her undignified job would soon be over.

_We're near- _Harry started to describe, looking around him, but Izlanzi cut him off.

_I don't need directions, Harry. I can tell from your thoughts. Also, as your bonded phoenix, I know where you are at all times. _

Sirius, who had been waving his hand in front of Harry's face the whole time he was conversing with Izlanzi, jolted Harry out of his apparent stupor.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Sirius asked, looking concerned. "We have some stuff you can eat if you're not feeling okay - Remus practically bought out the entire Honeydukes chocolate supply before we left-" but Harry interrupted him.

"I'm fine, Padfoot," he assured the concerned Marauder. "I was just talking with Izlanzi. She's going to take us to the library to meet Remus." Sirius immediately turned his full attention onto Harry.

"Oh yeah? And how's that going to work?" He asked. Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably, himself feeling unsure about it. Luckily, he was saved from answering stupidly by the appearance of Izlanzi herself in an impressive column of licking flames. Angling her wings sharply and landing on the carpeted ground, she turned her dark eyes towards Harry.

_Are you ready, Harry?_ She asked. Harry nodded, and double checked with Sirius to be sure he was. Sirius responded favourably, and Harry wrapped his arm around his chest - resulting in a disgruntled squawk from Sirius - before grabbing the tail feathers of the now-hovering Izlanzi.

With one last powerful stroke of her wings, Izlanzi raised herself off the ground, going higher than the height of a normal ceiling. Harry closed his eyes, awaiting the familiar sensation of transporting via Izlanzi. Harry felt his entire body warming up quickly. A jerk from Sirius at his side told him his friend was feeling the same. Then, barely a second later, the unbearable heat faltered and extinguished.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was in a completely different hallway. Had it not been for the similar decor and the curious Remus looking into his eyes, he might have thought he was in another house altogether. Wasting no words of pleasantries, Harry said, "Did you find the book?"

Sirius, who had unwrapped himself from Harry's grip and was looking a bit embarrassed, looked towards his friend with equal apprehension.

"Yeah," Remus responded, grinning and holding out a thick tome in his right hand. Harry snatched it away from him, eager to finally have a clue to their next move. Sure enough, on the cover of the worn, brown book were spiky, silver letters spelling out "_Pureblood Heritage Through the Ages, _by Jarvis Gershwinn." Flipping through the yellowed pages, Harry soon found the 278th page, but nothing of importance was written on it. Feeling his heart sink, Harry turned his head to Remus.

Remus, however, didn't look at all deterred by this revelation. Then, with his other hand, he held out an official looking piece of paper Harry hadn't noticed before.

Before Harry could do so, Sirius grabbed it and flipped it over.

"'Vault 206: Family of MacHaeilin Lestrange, vault created year 799 A.D,'" Sirius read aloud, not looking a fraction as amazed as Harry and Remus looked at the vault's age. _Then again,_ Harry realized, _the Black vault is just as old, if not older. "'_Goblin Supervisor: Himmiclaw...' yadda, yadda yadda. Do I have to read all this stuff?" Sirius asked, looking up from the paper. "I mean, it doesn't really get important until the bottom of the page."

Remus sighed with exasperation, but smiled as he did so. "I guess we really don't need to know the Goblin Supervisor's name," he admitted. "And you're the expert. Skip ahead."

Sirius brightened considerably, and once again examined the paper, turning his attentions to lower on the page than before.

"Let's see... here we go! It says, 'In case of building collapse or semi-permanent lock down, Gringotts has provided the Lestrange family with one of the fifty privileged Emergency Entry and Exit routes. Your chosen location will be stated beneath, as well as protection to the entryway and any pass-codes needed for entry. It should be noted that an eight Galleon fee will be subtracted from your funds for each visit.'"

Harry snorted. It was just like the Goblins to exhort money for this sort of thing. They wouldn't want the families with Emergency routes to go through them each time, and what better way than charging money?

"So what's the location?" Remus asked eagerly. Sirius's eyes drifted yet lower on the page. For a second, he said nothing, staring at the page blankly, as if not quite understanding what it meant. Harry hoped fervently the location wasn't in some super-secret-ancient Pureblood code, or something.

However, his worries were proven wrong when instead of cussing, Sirius broke out into uproarious laughter. Though Harry was relieved, Remus looked slightly alarmed.

"Erm - Sirius?" said Remus, sounding and looking hesitant, and apprehensive. "Is something wrong, or-" but Sirius, still in hysterics, interrupted before he had time even to finish the question.

"This is just-" Sirius said loudly, pausing mid-sentence to inhale in a gulping fashion. "-just perfect!"

Remus, though glad he didn't seem to be going even more insane than he already was, seemed a bit annoyed that Sirius wasn't being more clear.

"And just what is perfect, may I ask?" the slightly ticked werewolf inquired. But Sirius was laughing so hard that he couldn't even form the words. Harry rolled his eyes, and grabbed the paper out of Sirius's shaking hands.

Harry scanned the paper, mind filtering through all the information he was processing. Finally, he found what had cracked Sirius up. He raised his eyebrows, and looked at the shuddering Sirius with slight confusion.

"No offense, Padfoot, but this isn't really that funny, you know," said Harry, passing the paper to a curious Remus. Slowly, Sirius seemed to be catching his breath, hand pressed on his knee to hold him up. Sirius shook his shaggy head.

"I guess you wouldn't get it, growing up around Muggles, Harry. In fact, even most Purebloods wouldn't get it, I reckon," he said. Remus too had found the location on the parchment and was looking a bit disappointed at the... well, lack of hilarity Sirius's reaction had suggested.

"But... what's funny about the entrance of the Emergency route being hidden in the Leaky Cauldron?" Remus asked, studying the paper as if looking for some joke he'd missed. Sirius seemed to be calming down a bit, but had gain a case of the hiccups.

"N-never mind -_hic_!- I guess it's just funny in context... it's just that half of the Pureblood history lessons I got from my dear old mum before Hogwarts -_hic!_- were about this age-old argument between the Blacks and the Lestranges, versus the a couple of other families. The whole -_hic!_- turn point of the argument was about the Leaky Cauldron being built to make a more easily accessible entrance to Diagon Alley. I guess we -_hic!_- know why the Lestranges didn't want it now... it was built practically on an entrance to their bank vault!"

Harry gave a small smile, only slightly less worried for Sirius's sanity now that his laughter was explained.

"I suppose..." Remus said, still looking at Sirius incredulously. There was silence for a couple seconds as Harry re-examined the paperwork with a more critical eye. The silence was broken only by the odd hiccup from Sirius, who was slowly regaining his (significantly decreased) dignity.

"You realize this really isn't funny, right?" Harry said to Sirius, looking up after reading the paperwork for at least the third time. Sirius gave holier-than-thou sigh, shaking his head.

"Like I said, I suppose it's only funny because it -_hic!_- explains so much to me. You guys weren't forced to listen to your -_hic!- _lunatic mother ranting about your family's supposedly commendable inbreeding for two hours a day, four days a week from age five to age _-hic!- _twelve," Sirius explained, smoothing his rumpled robes. Harry gave a small snort of laughter, despite his pity for his godfather.

Remus shuddered at the thought. Sirius hiccuped.

"So, shall we get back to business?" Harry suggested. Sirius and Remus nodded. "Okay, so according to this, the entrance is located behind the building of the Leaky Cauldron. It's not protected by any possibly harmful spells, due to the fact that no one other than actual Lestranges are supposed to know where the entrance is."

"So how do you get into the actual tunnel?" Remus asked.

"I was getting to that," said Harry, placing the paperwork on the hardwood floor and smoothing it out so Remus and Sirius could lean over and look at it. "Actually, it's protected by a system similar to how you get into Diagon Alley itself. However, it's much more complicated, not surprisingly. There's a whole, intricate password you have to tap into the brick, as well as two spells."

From here, Harry stood up and allowed Remus and Sirius to look up any other information they wanted to know on the paper itself. A few minutes passed, Harry eyeing the titles on the spines of the countless books stuffed into the Lestranges' extensive library. Finally, he was ripped from eyeing, _A Comprehensive Study on Egyptian Curses _(and wondering if it was safe to take it off the shelf) by Remus.

"Harry?" said Remus, looking up from the paper lying on the ground. "So when do you want to go through the actual tunnel to Gringotts?" Harry paused thoughtfully. He hadn't thought over this part specifically yet. However, he didn't need to think long.

"As soon as possible," Harry responded decisively. "Tomorrow, preferably. I'm tired of all this intricate planning, and there's actually not much of a safety hazard in going through the unguarded passageway."

"That's good with me," Sirius said, looking up at Harry. "There have been way too many steps in getting Hufflepuff's Cup than I would have liked." Remus nodded, agreeing with Sirius's sentiment.

"So tomorrow?" Harry clarified. Again, Sirius and Remus nodded, both looking relieved at the lack of wait before what seemed like their millionth infiltration as of late. "Good. For now, why don't we just stay in the Leaky Cauldron?"

Remus and Sirius started, Remus dropping the papers he was holding. "_The Leaky Cauldron!_" the werewolf exclaimed, utterly floored. "Isn't that just about the _opposite _of what we've been doing this entire time; staying out of well-known Wizarding areas?" Harry shook his head, and was about to respond with his reasons for wanting to do so, when Sirius decided to continue Remus's argument.

"Yeah, Harry, it just seems kind of... stupid, to be blunt. We've spent all this time keeping just out of the Wizarding world, and now you want to go to the main entryway of the largest Magical hub in all of England?"

Harry gave a slightly sheepish grin, understanding what they were saying. "One could put it that way," - Sirius snorted - "but the main point here is that it's just... well, more convenient. In a way, we're hiding in plain sight; right under the noses of the remaining Death Eaters."

"Then why haven't we-" Remus started, but Harry started answering before the question was even fully formed.

"We haven't done this before because then, that was what they were expecting." Sirius and Remus looked confused, and Harry gave a small sigh. "In the beginning of our quest, they thought our most likely move was to stay in Magical areas, and be protected by wards and other spells." Harry's companions nodded slowly in comprehension. "Well, now they know that we're not doing that. We've caused quite a ruckus in Azkaban, judging by the latest Daily Prophet, and though the Ministry has no idea who it is, I'm sure the Death Eaters know it was us who broke in.

"Now they know for sure that we're doing something, and the fact that they haven't been able to find us before now in the most obvious places means that they're going to start moving off the beaten track. Into Muggle London, and beyond. So, we go switch. They look where we used to be, we stay where they used to be."

This seemed to have cleared the problem up for Remus and Sirius, who were looking a bit more assured that he hadn't completely lost his rocker.

"I suppose that makes sense," Remus said hesitantly, looking at Sirius to see if he agreed. Sirius, unusually, was contemplating for a significantly longer time that either Harry or Remus.

"I still don't know, guys," Sirius finally replied, bending down to pick up the fallen and forgotten paperwork and looking at them again. "I mean, if the Leaky Cauldron is situated on top of a high-security Gringotts vault entrance, it's more than likely being watched - at least by the Lestranges."

Harry bit his lip. He hadn't thought of that.

"However," continued Sirius, "there's nothing about that on here, and Harry brought up a valid point. They don't expect us to be in Wizard-populated places anymore. The best way to avoid them is to do what they least expect."

Harry's heart lifted at Sirius's (at least partial) approval of his plan. Still not fully understanding how and why everyone had suddenly come to agree with him about staying at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry smiled, and said,

"Great. Is there anything else we really need to do here?"

Remus and Sirius looked speculative, but after a good half minute of contemplation, no one could think of anything that they still needed to get done in the city of Calais.

"Nope," Sirius finally said, voicing for both himself and Remus. "Should we get going then?"

Harry was conflicted. There was this nagging feeling on the back of his mind, as if he was forgetting something... as if he wasn't quite done here yet. Harry snorted softly. It was probably just the feeling of actually doing something quickly, and not being delayed. This was a rather unusual phenomenon for him in any time period.

"I suppose so," said Harry, sweeping his green eyes around the room. "I don't really think there's anything else we need to do here, surprisingly. Are there any books you want, or think we need, from the library, Remus?"

Remus looked thoughtful and stepped closer to the nearest shelf, though he took care not to run his fingers along the dusty spines as he usually did in case of curses. His eyes flicked over the titles, before furrowing his brow and stepping away.

"It doesn't really look like it," he said. "Unless we need information on really Dark Magic, there's nothing here for us. Normally, I'd suggest looking for more information on Horcruxes, but I really don't see what more information we need. We know where they are, and what protects them to a certain extent. I can't think of anything else that's too important."

"Great!" Sirius said, clapping his hands together sarcastically. "Now that we've affirmed _again _that we don't need to stay here, can we just go already?" Harry chuckled a bit.

"Sure. I didn't sense any non-Apparition wards when I was testing, so we should be able to Apparate from here. Meet you guys there." And with a loud popping noise, Harry disappeared, sucked into the familiar (but no more enjoyed) contorting feeling of Apparition. In a scant few seconds, Harry was shoved forcefully back into the normal world, leaving his gasping and holding his slightly aching ribcage.

Harry straightened at once, not at all liking his briefly unprotected body. His hand practically shot towards the pocket holding his wand when he heard two large gunshot-like pops, only to relax and realize it was only his two friends. Harry turned towards them. Not for the first time this week, they had Apparated within the Leaky Cauldron wards.

The trio were standing around fifteen feet right of the rusty-hinged door with some trepidation. Remus stood solemnly and gracefully (being the only one of the group who actually had a good hang of Apparition) next to Sirius, who was glaring at his slightly twisted ankle; and Harry, who was recovering his breath and straightening out his spine.

"Really quick question here, Harry," Remus said, turning towards his friend. "Are we going under disguise, or not?"

"We may as well," replied Harry. "We'll bring less attention to ourselves if we do, and then there's less chance of a Death Eater learning our whereabouts via the rumor mill. Though if we do run into a Death Eater, no Glamor Charm is going to protect us."

Remus nodded in agreement, showing his approval for Harry's decision. "I suppose so. Here-" Remus drew his wand from his pocket and swished it in a triangular shape, muttering an incantation. At once, Harry's appearance changed into that of a tall, brown-haired man around five years older than Harry's real age with dark eyes and a small nose ring. Harry felt his face with his enlarged hands and was impressed. Remus was extremely inventive when creating Glamor Charms.

Harry raised his wand to do the Glamor Charm on Remus, but the werewolf stopped him. "I'll do it," he said. "You have the least magical energy from the wards and protection you brought us through in France." Harry rolled his eyes. That bit of magic would have taken only around three percent of his magical core, but he knew arguing was more effort that its worth.

Remus closed his eyes and made the same triangular wand movement before tapping himself on the head and turning into a man with long, coal black hair tied in a sleek ponytail, and sharp cheekbones to match his regal expression. His face reminded Harry unpleasantly of Severus Snape - albeit a better looking one.

Harry's stomach sank as his thoughts turned to Snape for nearly the first time in his escapade into the past. For a second, he felt guilty. Then, just as quickly, he banished the feeling. He was here to save lives; not make one man dislike him a little less. Plus, if it all worked as Harry hoped it was, there was a definite possibility of Snape being alive as well.

Harry turned to Sirius, opening his mouth, only to find a middle-aged man with a rather thick moustache and a goatee in Sirius's place. Harry blinked, and was momentarily confused until the man gave a distinctively Sirius-esque grin, looking strangely young on the man's slightly wrinkled face.

"Shall we go in, then?" Sirius asked rhetorically. Harry grinned and nodded, trailing Sirius and Remus into the dimly lit Leaky Cauldron.

It was strange being back in a place he knew so well. Since they left, Harry, Sirius, and Remus had been (metaphorically) mapping uncharted territory for all three of them. Except for their extremely brief Apparition point of outside this same building, they had been staying in places completely new to all of them for what felt like ages. Whether they were dangerous or not (Harry remembered with a small shudder the city they had visited early in their trip that had nearly trapped them in it) they had rarely seen a familiar sight in weeks, other than each others faces.

But somehow being where he was, the Leaky Cauldron, felt even more alien than all the new places they'd stayed in; including the numerous Muggle hotels. It was just that, somehow, Harry had imagined the Wizarding world to be different, or something. Not that there weren't extremely notable differences already. Harry could spot more smiling faces in the pub alone than he'd seen in the entire length of Diagon Alley when Voldemort was around. _I suppose I just expected people to be more... rejoicing? _

"Remember, Harry, it's been over a month since you killed Voldemort, and practically nobody has seen you since," Remus whispered. "They've migrated out of the initial celebration faze." Harry smiled at his currently black-haired friend fondly, marveling at how he always seemed to know precisely what was on Harry's mind.

Sirius stepped up to the counter, acting as spokesperson for their group. He was, after all, the best liar.

"Good day, good sir," the considerably younger Tom-the-barman said, setting a glass down on the counter. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Indeed," Sirius replied briskly, adopting a very pronounced Scottish cadence. "My name is Winston Wright, and these are my associates, Charles Mindron and Harley Fairfield-" he pointed to Remus and Harry in succession, "-and we would like to rent a room for a currently undetermined period of time."

The barman looked at them curiously, eyes wandering from face to face. "Forgive me if I'm prying," said Tom, "but I've never seen you here before, or heard any of your surnames. Are you foreign?"

"In a manner of speaking," Sirius replied evasively. "We've been living in Moscow for the past four years, though Charles and I grew up in Scotland. Harley here, however, originates from Ireland." Tom smiled, his curiosity abated. Sirius seemed to think it was time to redirect the subject back to their rented living space. "Now... our room?"

"Will you be needing three rooms, gentlemen?" Tom asked, continuing his assembly line style cleaning of his seemingly endless supply of dirty mugs. Sirius smiled sheepishly, an expression that didn't look quite at home on his regal features.

"Well, you see, we're a bit low on galleons at the moment, so-" Sirius started, but Tom cut him off with a grin.

"Say no more, Mr. Wright. I'll be getting an extra large room for the three of you... _MANDY!_" Harry jumped a little at Tom's sudden yell at the end of his sentence. Sirius turned his head back to his friends, looking equally baffled and slightly apprehensive. _Who, or what, is "Mandy?"_ Harry wondered, subconsciously tightening his grip on his wand, which was concealed in his right pocket.

A few seconds later, a plump girl came skidding out of the back room leading to the kitchen, the double doors swinging madly.

"Wha-what is it?" She said frantically, her curly brown hair bouncing around. Harry raised his eyebrows. He had no recollection of seeing her before, in any time period. Perhaps she was someone who was supposed to have died...?

"Nothing really, Mandy," Tom said, turning his attentions to a list he'd retrieved from under the bar counter and writing something. "I just need you to take Mr. Wright and company to their rooms. Room nineteen, if you will."

Mandy colored, her previously warm brown eyes turning practically black as she glared with all the ferocity and threat she could muster. "Tom! You know we have other people to-" she began, but Tom cut her off, grinning crookedly.

"The customers, Mandy? Or have you forgotten?"

Once again, the girl ("Mandy," apparently) turned red. However, this time she managed to turn her attentions back onto Harry, Sirius, and Remus. She smiled warmly, her expression reverting back from the - frankly, scary - expression it had been exhibiting the moment before.

"Why don't you come this way, gentlemen," she said kindly, beckoning them up the familiar, narrow staircase to their right which lead to the rooms on the second and third floors. Sirius followed first, Remus and Harry trailing on behind. "That absolute nitwit, Tom!" She said as soon as they were out of earshot of the barman. "Calling me up from the kitchens to lead customers to their rooms... pshaw! That's what Anna's hired for!"

She continued to grumble until they reached their room on the third floor; room nineteen, as specified.

"Here you go, sirs," Mandy said, turning back to face them, and handing Remus three identical brass keys. "I hope it's to your liking. Breakfast is free downstairs with presentation of your keys, and lunch and dinner are served for an affordable cost. If you have any questions, please ask Tom, or any other employee you see. We ask you not to Apparate directly out or in of your room, so as you don't disturb other guests."

"Thank you," Harry said, using an Irish accent - remembering that Sirius had specified Ireland as his background. Mandy gave a little curtsy and stomped off downstairs, her muttering following her long after the top of her bouncy brown curls disappeared. Sirius watched her go, amused.

"Interesting character, she is," he said, taking one of the keys from Remus's offering hand and inserting it into the door, unlocking it. "I think I remember her graduating Hogwarts when I was in my second year."

The three companions stepped into the sizable room quickly, Remus flicking his wand, and murmuring, "_Colloportus,_" to lock it behind them. It seemed to be made into only two rooms; a large bedroom/living space, and door (presumably leading to a bathroom) on their left.

"So when are we doing this?" Remus asked, getting straight to the point. But Harry motioned him to be quiet, and raised his wand, pointing towards the door.

"_Muffliato!_" He whispered, swiping it downwards in a restrained motion. "Perfect. Now, in response to you, Remus, I think we should do it today."

Sirius gave a little snort. "Today?" he said doubtfully, sitting on the arm of a chintzy blue looking armchair. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You do have rather a habit of doing things as quickly as you can, don't you Harry?" Harry smiled, a bit abashed.

"Are you sure today is the best option?" Remus asked doubtfully. "I mean, shouldn't we get at least a bit more prepared-"

"We're just as prepared now as we'll ever be, not to mention that the object in question is barely even out of this building!" argued Harry. He was beginning to get a slight sense of déjà vu; this conversation was sounding more and more like the one he'd had with Ron and Hermione in Grimmauld Place before their Ministry infiltration.

Remus still looked unsure (and Sirius more amused than angry) so Harry plowed on, pulling out the big guns that he knew would surely win the argument.

"Not to mention, we don't exactly have unlimited time here, guys. Remember, I'm going 'poof' only a few days after the end of the school year! I don't have a choice of when I'm being brought back into the twenty-first century. We really need to speed up our process here if we want to get rid of all the Horcruxes before then."

Seeing that there was really no point to keep arguing (Remus too recognized Harry's time limit as the final shot in their brief argument) Remus nodded.

"I suppose that makes the most sense, Harry," he said. "What do you think, Sirius?" Sirius shrugged noncommittally.

"I dunno," said Sirius. "Like you said, Harry, we need to get going here. We may as well start picking up the pace today."

"Great!" Harry said, thoroughly satisfied at the outcome of this brief spat. "We can't leave our room right now, however. That would be a bit suspicious if Tom saw us. Why don't we wait a while and unpack?"

"Good idea saying up here a bit longer, but I don't think we should unpack," Remus put in quietly. Sirius looked as if he was going to protest, but Remus continued. "Just in case, you know?" Harry nodded, seeing the positive aspects of this suggestion. It was only a slight inconvenience not to unpack.

"Okay. We'll stay up here for..." Harry's eyes drifted towards the nondescript wooden clock hanging just above the door. "-thirty minutes, or so. Then we'll make out way down."

Approximately forty-five minutes, one unsuspecting barkeeper, and a brief incident with an irritated pet iguana later found Harry, Sirius, and Remus standing behind the Leaky Cauldron. They were situated in a corner. One brick wall of the Leaky Cauldron was facing them; and the other was separating them from where witches and wizards would tap in the combination for access to the alley.

"_Muffliato!_" Harry whispered again, pointing around the trio. "Okay, Sirius, do your stuff," said Harry, turning his attentions back to the dog animagus. Sirius's face became... well, serious, as he turned back to the parchment in his hand. Cautiously, he took out his wand and began.

First (after counting and re-counting meticulously) he tapped a brick the wall separating them from the Leaky Cauldron. Then one on the ground. Then on the second wall. Then the ground. The ground again. Leaky Cauldron wall. He began to speed up as he got a hang of locating the bricks. After a good five minutes, Sirius finished, and turned to Remus.

Remus nodded and drew his own wand. "_Concedo Ostium!_" he said, swishing his wand in a complicated motion. The wall they were facing glowed an unearthly green that remind Harry unpleasantly of the Killing Curse. But Remus continued, casting several other spells before lowering his wand, and saying the password. "Where thy loyalty lies, lies also distrust," Remus said, closing his eyes.

For a second, Harry was confused as to why Remus was closing his eyes. Is this some part of the ceremony? Harry wondered, half anxious, half curious. But soon it became apparent why Remus had done so. At first gradually, and then with the speed of an approaching train, the green light intensified. Going from a muted green light to blinding. Harry threw his arms over his eyes, clenching his teeth to as to not cry out. There was a strange sensation of being sucked into something... Harry's mind flew strangely to a spider he'd once accidentally vacuumed up while living with the Dursleys. Then, all at once, everything stopped.

The roaring in his ears stopped. The light abated. The strange feeling disappeared. All that was left was a strange silence. Harry opened his eyes, not sure what to expect. Wherever they were, it was dark. Harry hoped wildly that they hadn't done something cataclysmal and caused the entire street to black out. But then he reassured himself. It was silent. No screaming and confused Muggles running around like beheaded chickens.

Drawing his wand from his pocket, Harry swished it and said, "_Lumos!_" The space around them was immediately thrown into light. Harry frowned. This certainly wasn't what he had been expecting. The instructions they had gotten from Bellatrix Lestrange at the French house had been mum when it came to what one should expect once actually entering the passageway. The light of his charm faded, and Harry cast it again. "_Lumos Maxima!_"

This time, instead of the slightly feeble light provided by the Lumos Charm, the entire area was lit in a sweep of bright magic. Harry swiveled his head to look behind him. To his surprise, there was only a wall behind him, standing firmly around a foot behind their heads. In front of them was a passageway with no visible end.

"Harry?" Sirius whispered from his right. Harry turned. "Where _are_ we?"

"I think... I think we need to follow this passageway to get to the vault. Remus, Sirius, keep you wands ready. I don't like this place..." replied Harry, successfully able to hide the fact that he had no idea where they were.

The trio walked down the narrow passageway in a silent procession, each on high-alert. Though the paperwork had said that extra traps, spells and wards were forbidden to be placed by the owners of the vault, Harry wouldn't put it past the Lestranges to try. They walked down the corridor for about twenty-five yards before the hallway turned into a steep staircase without any form of railing. Grimacing, Harry concentrated, and swished his wand, conjuring a wooden railing on each side. It wouldn't do to have one of his friends find their death prematurely by lack of stairwell safety precautions.

They walked down these stairs for what felt like forever. Harry's legs had begun to ache and shake a little by the time that, to their great relief, the stairs turned into a gentle decline. They followed this, taking the twists and turns in the passageway that had only just begun. Remus and Sirius's guard was beginning to fall, Harry could see.

The pure monotony of following this hallway for so long was dulling their sense of danger. And Harry had to admit, the creators of the passageway had done a good job lulling them into that false sense of security. Unlike the harrowing hallways Harry remembered from the Chamber of Secrets (which he had initially compared their current surroundings to) the hallway was dry, and strangely... inviting looking. Brushing away this thought, Harry turned his deliberation back to the passageway in front of him, and not a second too late.

"DUCK!" Harry yelled, hitting the deck so quickly that all grace was lost from the movement. A half-second later, he heard Sirius and Remus land with thumps behind him. Spells soared over them of all color and intensity. Harry couldn't see the bolts themselves (his face was firmly planted into the stone floor) but their light further lit the hallway. This went on for nearly a minute. Harry was lucky only to get hit with a rather nasty (but easily fixed) Cutting Curse that had hit his right arm.

Once they were completely sure it was over, the trio stood up, ready to thrown themselves to the floor again at a moments notice. Harry turned back to Remus and Sirius.

"Are you guys okay?" He asked, looking them up and down for any obvious signs of injury.

"Mostly," Remus said, clenching his teeth and applying pressure to his left hipbone. "I got hit with a minor Impalement Hex." Harry whipped out his wand at once, and tapped Remus's side.

"_Tergeo!_" He said, and the minimal dirt and blood was siphoned off. "_Condico Cruris!_" Remus gave a sigh, and released his hands from his side.

"Thanks, Harry," he said gratefully, examining the wound.

"Are you okay, Sirius?" Harry asked, turning to his other friend.

"Yeah," he replied. "I only got two Stinging Jinxes; I got rid of the effects myself." Harry nodded and turned back to the passageway in front of them with no small amount of trepidation. They had been right about the Lestranges adding extra protection._ That was no Goblin trap... _Harry thought.

Then, his mind was whipped away from that by a light emanating from the end of the hallway. His heart leaped.

"Sirius, Remus," he whispered. "I think we've reached the vault." Immediately, the two were at attention, pointing their outstretched wands in front of them, though they didn't seem to see anything. Harry was confused for a second before he realized that their eyes weren't as strong as his due to the Horcrux incident where his senses were increased. "Follow me. There might be more traps set by the Lestranges..."

Harry, Sirius, and Remus continued down the passageway - all three a great deal more cautious than they had been before. However, to their great relief, they triggered no more traps. Harry gulped loudly, looking at the sturdy door before them. The light he had seen was shining iridescently through the cracks on all sides of it. After Remus had checked the door handle for any Dark magic or more traps, Harry wrapped his hand around it. The metal was cool, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion he might just be one of the first humans ever to touch it.

After taking a deep breath, Harry yanked it open.

At once, they were blinded by light. After trekking for quite a while with only the meagre light of Harry's constantly waning Lumos charm, the light emanating from the room seemed as bright as the sun. Harry gave a muted yelp, and threw his hands over his eyes, keeping hold of his wand purely out of instinct. The all-consuming light seeped through his eyelids, painting them an almost bloody red. After he thought he had just about gotten over the light, he opened his eyes just a crack.

Seeing that he wasn't going blind, Harry continued to open his eyes bit by bit - the entire operation taking a good three or four minutes; much longer than it took his friends, due to his increased sense of eyesight. When Harry finally had his eyes wide open without feeling light-induced pain, he gaped. What he had seen in the Lestrange vault in his previous forced entry with Ron and Hermione had been nothing. Before, the treasure in the huge vault had been piled as high as two of Harry, and big around as nearly five of him. Then, he had thought that this was unimaginable wealth.

Now, he realized that the Lestrange assets had been in a state of disrepair.

The pure amount of gold was at the very least tripled, not even including the vats of sickles and knuts lining the high stone walls. Piled on top of the mountains of gold galleons were treasures; strewn about with the casualty of clothes about a room. There were swords, scepters, shields, vials of deadly looking potion, paintings... everything. Harry was literally motionless - gaping like a fish. The Potters were by no means badly off (in fact, they were one of the wealthiest families in current times) but this was a whole new, ridiculous level of wealth.

Harry turned to look beside him. Remus was having about the same reaction. He, like Harry, was a half-blood. But unlike Harry, his magical parent (being his mother) had not been as rich as the Potters. From what Remus had told Harry, she was in the lower middle class. Remus had never seen even a tenth of this amount of Galleons and artifacts in one place at once.

"W-Whoa..." Remus whispered, picking his wand off the ground from where it had slipped from his loose fingers. Sirius was the only one of the three to seem unaffected by the overwhelming wealth accumulated here. In fact, Sirius was already searching the gigantic pile and looking for the cup. Harry had warned him about the curses he had encountered while looting the pile last time he had been here. He honestly had no idea if they had been put in place only because of the raised defense measures at the time, or if they were a permanent part of the Lestrange vault, but Harry wasn't taking any chances.

Shaking himself out of his riches-induced daze, Harry stepped forward and began helping Sirius. Hufflepuff's Cup, obviously, was un-summonable - as were all Horcruxes. This made it a great deal harder to find. They had been carefully charming gold to unearth itself in an attempt to find the cup for about ten minutes when Harry called it to a halt.

"Okay, stand back. I'm going to try something..." Harry raised his wand, concentrating his magic. This was an extremely advanced spell, not to mention verging on Grey. "_Malum Invenio!"_ Harry said forcefully, jabbing his wand at the pile as if he were stabbing it. At once, a ghostly light began shining from Harry's wand. Well... perhaps "shining" wasn't the correct term. Unlike any other spells Remus and Sirius had ever seen, it wasn't a direct bolt of light. Instead, the light seemed to flow from his wand in all directions, covering the pile of gold with an eerie, mist-like substance. For a second, the misty spell just hung over the pile as if digging through it.

Then, bit by bit, the light began to change colors. In most places, it kept to its greyish hue. However, all around it strange shapes appeared in a multitude of colors. Some were deep red, some blue. The dominant number of colored spots seemed to be a muddy brown. However, there were a scant few spots that were colored a black so deep you might as well have been looking out into a starless, moonless sky at midnight.

Sirius looked baffled, but Remus looked awed. "Is- is that what I think it is, Harry?" Remus asked in a hushed tone, cautiously approaching the mist covered pile.

"Knowing you, I'm assuming so," Harry replied, smiling a bit cheekily. Remus turned back to him and glared half-heartedly. Harry backtracked. "It's the Turnpin Detection Charm," he revealed. Remus nodded. Apparently, this was what he'd been thinking.

"But... but that's leagues more advanced than even NEWT work!" he exclaimed. "You'd have to be-"

"The Head of the Auror Department?" Harry finished for him, smiling. Remus flushed a little.

"Well... yeah. But anyways, let's get back to this pile. We need to find the Horcrux."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Sirius said loudly. "Now that you two are out of your little genius convention here, would you mind telling me what the 'Turnip Detention Charm' is?"

Remus and Harry guffawed at Sirius's butchery of the Charm name. Sirius scowled, but didn't retreat in his request.

"It's a Dark object and spell detector, in short," Harry replied. "However, it's different in that, unlike all others of the genre, it actually tells you what level of Dark the objects are, their general shape, and their exact location."

Sirius looked suitable impressed, though (judging by Remus's expression) he probably should have been more so.

"You're selling yourself short, Harry," Remus said. "It's much more complicated that that... but we have a job to accomplish. Let's get on with it. Okay now. Horcruxes are the darkest kind of magic I've ever heard of, hands down. They'll be the black splotches."

"Be careful not to touch anything with a color-warning," Harry said advised seriously. "Even if it is low-level, this_ is _the Lestrange vault we're in here. Remus and Sirius, you take that one over there. That black spot and the one I'm going to be checking are the only ones that look remotely like Hufflepuff's Cup."

Without a verbal response, Sirius and Remus walked off towards the black spot Harry had indicated. Then, little by little, they began levitating the gold off. After watching them for a second, Harry turned his back and focused his attention back onto his spot. Wordlessly, Harry did the swish and flick motion. _Wingardium Leviosa! _he thought with some amusement. Every time he used this spell, he was reminded of Hermione, Ron, and his first year adventure with the troll.

It took about five minutes for Harry to unearth the dark object he was checking. When he finally levitated the object itself out of the endless heap of gold, he was disappointed to see that instead of Hufflepuff's Cup, it was an eggplant purple trophy. The trophy was glinting with a deadly looking light purple hue. Harry shuddered. He really didn't want to know what it did to deserve the black splotch. He was just setting it back down and hurriedly replacing gold on top of it when Remus gave a shout.

"Harry! We've found it!"

Until he heard these words, Harry realized that he'd had a small spot of dread located in the pit of his stomach. What if it wasn't in the vault yet? What if Voldemort didn't give it to Bellatrix until later? At the moment Remus told him that he'd found it, all those fears were released.

Harry whipped his head to the right so fast it cracked. Remus was grinning devilishly, levitating the familiar cup in front of him while Sirius smilingly levitated the gold back into place behind him. Harry hurried over and looked at the cup with wonderment.

"So that's Hufflepuff's Cup..." Sirius said, having finished replacing the golden Galleons. Harry gave no response. Sirius turned his head towards Harry. "Are we going to destroy it now?"

In truth, Harry hadn't really thought of what they were going to do now. For the past two weeks or so, his primary objective had been to obtain Hufflepuff's Cup. He hadn't given much thought to the aftermath.

"I suppose there's no time like the present," Harry replied, shrugging in a manner that looked more nonchalant that he was feeling. He reached into his pocket. Although they had left most of their things in the Leaky Cauldron, he had brought with him the absolute essentials - just in case they needed to make a quick escape and couldn't even Apparate back to their room for a minute. Harry enlarged the box with a silent flick of his wand, and reached his hand far into it.

After a second of searching, he found what he was looking for. Tightening his grasp around the handle, Harry withdrew from the box the sword of Godric Gryffindor. To protect the other items he had stored, the sword was wrapped tightly leather. Unclasping the tie he'd placed to keep it on, Harry took the sheath off and held the majestic sword aloft. The massive rubies on the handle glinted in the bright light of the vault.

Remus and Sirius looked at the sword in awe. They had seen it before in the Chamber of Secrets, but they seemed to have forgotten its majesty. Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Remus levitated the chalice carefully and set it on the stone ground.

Harry had to admit it: he was apprehensive. Last time they had destroyed a Horcrux (or was it the time before last? They were all beginning to meld into one...) his senses had been dramatically increased. Not that he hadn't gotten used to it, in fact, it was barely even a problem any more, but the problem remained. What spells did Voldemort have on Hufflepuff's Cup? Would they be as life-altering as the one that changed his senses?

Harry shivered, and examined the cup. He had to admit, it didn't look as malevolent as the diadem had been. In fact, had it not been for the black mist hanging over it ominously (the remnants of Harry's spell) Harry might have thought it a normal cup. The Man Who Conquered swallowed his fears. _This isn't the time to get cold feet! _He berated himself.

Harry tightened his grip on the golden handle of Gryffindor's sword, holding it in two hands. He turned towards his friends.

"Keep your wands at the ready," he said grimly. "It's likely you'll need them." They raised their wands and pointed them steadily at the cup, their faces attentive and solemn. Harry took a deep breath and shouldered the sword, angling it above his head.

As if realizing its plight, Hufflepuff's Cup began to shudder, glowing. It was just fully "waking up," when Harry slammed the sword down on the rim of the levitated cup. Such as had been with the locket in his home time, eyes were created on the sides of the cup. Familiar red eyes, stretching so wide that their whites overwhelmed the red slits.

An unearthly screech of pure anger came from the cup as it began to shake more and more violently. Harry held the sword in the cup with resilience he didn't know he had. The monstrous cup continued to shake, as if trying to throw him off. But Harry was not to be deterred. The screech intensified, and Harry pushed down on the sword with all the strength he could muster. He had almost cleaved it in half, when suddenly, the cup seemed to give in.

For a second, Harry's heart leaped. They had destroyed the Horcrux! But he had celebrated too soon. Instead of giving in to the ruby encrusted sword, the Horcrux had... _bounced,_ for lack of better word. As if the evil thing had legs, it had somehow managed to propel itself backwards. Harry tripped in confusion and followed the moving cup, grasping onto the sword stuck into it like a lifeline.

The cup buried itself in the gigantic pile of treasure they had been looting through, pulling a yelling Harry along behind it, his screams barely heard over the cup's screeching.

For a second, Harry thought nothing would happen. His heart felt as if it had been submerged in icy water as he waited for an eternal second. Nothing seemed to happen. Harry let out a deep breach, raising the still sceaming cup by the sword handle he was still holding. The cup's screams, which had been momentarily muffled by the piles of Galleons, continued at full force. Harry saw Remus throw a Silencing spell at it, only to have the blue jet of light bounce off and hit the wall.

Then, a full five seconds after he had landed in the pile of treasure, Harry felt it. It seemed to happen slowly. His clothes were warming little by little. At first, it was almost pleasant. Then, as he realized what was happening, it sped up with deadly speed. In less than ten seconds, Harry felt as if he were on fire. Harry screamed, the sound seeming tortured and alien to his ears.

Harry struggled, attempting to stand up. But then the other parts of the Lestrange vault defences leaped up. As Harry moved, the hoard of gold around him doubled; tripled; quadrupled! There was fire all around Harry, and it took what little mental capacity was not focused wholly on the all consuming heat for him to remember that, for some strange and unknown reason, he had to hold onto this sword at his side.

Harry leaped up and out of the pile, which had grown from huge, to bigger than at least two of the Dursleys' houses. He heard two screams come from in front of him, and they were what jolted him back into reality. _Remus and Sirius! _

Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the teetering mound of gold. For a second, Harry floundered. What could he do? He couldn't explode it... the gold would just be flown everywhere, not to mention the dark objects scattered around it. It was a miracle Harry hadn't touched one already! Then, a burst of inspiration hit him through the senses overload he was having.

"_Evanesco Maximus!_" Harry yelled, barely even hearing his voice over the screams of Hufflepuff's Cup, Sirius, Remus, and the clatter of falling treasure. And instantly, everything was gone. The room was empty, other than Harry, Sirius, Remus, the box they had brought in, and the connected sword and cup. It was instant reprieve for Harry when the burning stopped. Unable to help himself, he turned his wand to point towards himself, and whispered, "_Frigus_."

Harry sighed in content at the cold emitted by his charm. He knew he had some serious burns on his body, his clothes had been completely burned off, leaving only the singed remains of boxers, and that he would be feeling the pain for them later. But now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Across the room, Sirius and Remus had done the same spell on themselves and were laying on the ground in relief. Harry noted with a cringe that their bodies were a shiny, burned red, in some places blistering before his eyes.

Suddenly, burning anger was all that Harry felt. He stared down at the cup still attached to the end of Gryffindor's sword, black smoke beginning to seep out of the crack. With superhuman strength, Harry lifted it above his head, his arms not even registering the stress caused by the weight.

He slammed his hands down down, and the basilisk venom coated sword sliced through the remaining gold like a hot knife through butter. The two pieces were thrown apart by both the physical force, and broken magic. The rattling, high pitched scream petered out, its force remaining for a few long seconds as it was echoed off the high ceilings of the Lestrange vault.

And then, it was quiet.

Harry's ears were ringing, as well as physically hurting. Harry had no doubt that what he had felt from the burning curses placed on the treasure, and what he had heard from that infernal Horcrux had been worse that it had been for Remus and Sirius. He didn't resent them for it - it was just a fact of life.

Gathering his remaining strength, Harry managed to walk the fifteen feet over to where Remus and Sirius were laying on the stone floor.

"Is it gone?" Sirius asked, looking up at Harry. Harry tried to smile, and failed miserably.

"Yes, it's gone," he replied. Sirius relaxed, his burned body seeming to sink into the cracks of the vault floor. Remus, however, managed to collect his strength and sit up from where they had been laying, gritting his teeth in a valiant attempt to keep from crying out loud at the pain his burns were causing him.

"We... we should leave," Remus said, sounding exhausted. "We've obviously set of some sort of alarm. The goblins aren't going to happy when they learn you vanished the entire contents of a vault, Harry."

This time, Harry gave a real smile, and Sirius snorted from next to Remus. "That's not even mentioning dear old Bellatrix," he said. "She's going to be furious!" Sirius looked delighted at the prospect.

Harry dragged himself over to the box, waved his wand and minimized it. He was about to tuck it into his pocket when he realized that he had no pockets to put it into. Harry grimaced. His burns were going to be hell rubbing up against clothing. However, it completely defeated the point of stealth if they were going to bring so much attention to themselves by going commando.

Again, Harry brandished his wand, conjuring three identical sets of jeans, a black T-shirt, and robes. He threw two of the sets towards Sirius and Remus halfheartedly and then set to work putting his on.

Now having a place to put the minimized box, Harry placed it into his pocket, along with the toothpick sized sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry looked a the two parts of Helga Hufflepuff's cup contemplatively. He really didn't want to bring them along, but didn't see any alternative. When the goblins arrived, and Harry was giving them a maximum of five minutes on that, they would get a whole lot of clues from just that lost artifact. With a little inspection, they would be able to tell that it had been a Horcrux.

Harry didn't want those questions to happen even more than he didn't want to bring along the previous container for part of Lord Voldemort's soul. Grimacing in disgust, Harry conjured another box and levitated the halves of the cup into it; he then proceeded to (again) minimize and store it. He then turned back to his friends, who had dressed and were now standing near the door, ready to leave. Harry smiled, despite the circumstances.

However, his smile was wiped off his face upon a sound he knew all too well. The clack of the Gringotts carts. Harry paled. The goblins had arrived. Feeling a sudden jolt of adrenaline, Harry whipped his wand towards the door from which the goblins were going to enter and muttered, "_Muffliato! Colloportus!_"

"Come on, Harry!" Remus yelled, realizing that they could no longer be heard by the goblins in the slowing cart outside the door. Harry dashed towards the secondary passage doorway, which Remus was holding open. The second he entered the dimly lit corridor, Remus slammed the door behind them. Again, Harry cast the locking charm on the door they had left behind. As they ran pell mell down the dim corridor, Harry cast spells to hold up their pursuers. He conjured brick walls, left flash bombs, spilled their entire supply of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder... anything and everything non-lethal that he could think of.

Soon, they reached the steep staircase. Still feeling the effects of adrenaline, they ran upwards, barely feeling any exhaustion. They ran up around seventy-five yards of stairs when Harry's legs began to give out from both pain and exhaustion. He glowered, and pointed his wand towards his legs.

"_Navitus!_" He said, and felt energy pump into his legs. He then pointed his wand at the legs of Remus and Sirius and did the same. Far behind them, Harry (if not his companions) could hear a few goblins following them. Even from far away, he could tell they were furious. As they were in Gringotts, the goblins could not Apparate with their magic (it was warded so thickly that not even house elves could do so) they were stuck running behind in an angry fashion.

It seemed they had been running forever. As they went, Harry continually remembered spells he needed to cast upon himself and his friends, the most important being Glamor charms. Harry placed them hurriedly.

By the time that they had finally reached the top of the monstrous stairwell, Harry had cast four Muscle Strengthening Charms on his friends, and him. However, they didn't stop there. They saw the door before them, and dashed towards it at top speed. Together, they placed their hands on the door. And then, in a burst of the same sickly green light, they were swept off their feet by the sucking feeling that had transferred them to the tunnel in the first place. Around five seconds later, they were dropped unceremoniously on the cobblestone ground of the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry gave a very audible sigh of relief. Standing up from where the sudden travel had knocked him to the ground, he brushed off his robes. After helping Sirius and Remus up, he finally lifted his head. His heart, whose beats had been slowly decreasing in speed, speed up as if combined with a jackhammer.

The three friends stood together; burnt, sweaty, and exhausted in front of seven glowering, hooded Death Eaters. Again, Harry sighed as he tightened his grip on his wand. He never could catch a break, could he? Next to Harry, Remus and Sirius were readying for battle. There was a lengthy pause as both sides readied themselves; the silence broken only by the appearance of three deliriously angry goblins, who Harry banished with a quick twist of his wand.

And then it began.

A/N: God, and here I thought I was done making super length chapters! This one is almost as long as the last... Anyways, if you liked it, disliked it, or just plain want to make my day better, please review!

Please alert me to any spelling/grammar/timeline mistakes you may have found via review, as by Beta was unable to edit most of this chapter. Thanks!

Thanks! ~Aquahina


	26. Acquaintances

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; nor do I own A Very Potter Musical. I'm actually at a loss as to which I'd rather have written... (no, actually, definitely the original. Seriously, though, AVPM is TOTALLY AWESOME!)

A/N: This chapter is a great deal shorter than my two last (over 10,000 words each!) ones. Just to be clear: THIS is my average chapter length.

_Chapter Twenty-Six: Acquaintances_

"_Avada Kedavra!_" a hooded Death Eater yelled, swishing his wand in a vicious downward slash. The green curse shot towards Harry, who sidestepped with ease. _Really, _Harry thought, _is the Killing Curse the only spell Death Eaters use these days? _

Sending two spells off in rapid succession at random members of the surrounding group, Harry yelled to Remus and Sirius. "We've got to get out of here! Meet me at... at-" Harry was at a loss as to where exactly he should have them meet him. It had to be somewhere the Death Eaters wouldn't be familiar with, or wouldn't be able to follow them to.

Sirius grunted next to him as a Cutting spell nicked his upper arm. Harry whipped around to glare at the perpetrator before sending a particularly powerful Stunning spell his way, causing the masked man to fall backwards out of sight.

This was nowhere near the most difficult of the fights Harry had ever had. Then again, a 'difficult fight' for him nearly always included personal attention from Voldemort himself. Now that the... _man-thingy _was dead, there was really no one to challenge him much. Not that he wanted anyone to chase after his head again. Remus and Sirius, on the other hand, were having much more trouble with their opponents. Of the seven hooded figures the three of them were battling, Harry had taken taken three, and Remus and Sirius two each. However, Harry noted as he dodged a Cruciatus, Sirius and Remus' opponents seemed much more experienced.

Indeed, Harry was able to disarm, stun, and semi-grievously injure his three Death Eaters within three minutes. After eliminating his opponents, he turned around to check on his comrades. Upon seeing them, a cold shock went through him as he began to seriously regret not paying enough attention towards his friends' well being. Sirius was laying unconscious on the ground, blood seeping from the side of his head and coating his black hair. Standing protectively over him was Remus, who seemed to be nearly delirious in his anger as he whipped curses at his three opponents left and right.

Growling in anger and vexation, Harry leaped over to stand by Remus. The three Death Eaters looked taken aback that he had managed to defeat three of their number in such a short time. Harry was confused by this. He was by no means a vain or self-conscious person, but even he had thought the remaining few stray Death Eaters had enough sense as to not attack the man who had killed their far more magically superior master with such small numbers. Then, comprehension dawned on him. He had placed Glamour Charms on the three of them when they were running for the goblins up the tunnel!

Taking a split second to look down at his appearance, Harry's suspicion was proved correct. How could he have forgotten? Sirius and Remus had already changed back to their normal forms, having been hit by a few rogue spells, but Harry had remained unscathed in their battle so far and his charm was still firmly in place. To him, he was still Harry Potter; but to others, he was Neville Longbottom.

Hoping hard that this would work, Harry pointed his wand at himself and said, "_Finite!_" At once, the illusion covering his natural appearance dissolved. The entire battle seemed to pause as the Death Eaters stumbled backwards in surprise, completely ignoring the fact that they had dropped their wands. They had to be pretty stupid not to realize who they were seeing as they knew the true identities of his companions. But then again, from what Harry had seen in a quickly scanned issue of the Daily Prophet a while back, most people still seemed to think that he was just hiding out in Hogwarts to avoid the public eye.

"_You! _Jameson!_"_ one of the three Death Eaters hissed in pure rage. "You defeated the Dark Lord!" Harry frowned at the familiarity of the voice. Did he know this person? While thinking, Harry was barely able to dodge one of the strongest Killing Curses he'd seen cast by anyone but Voldemort. Harry stared at the man in disbelief. How was this Death Eater still unarrested? All but the weakest of Voldemort's forces had been engaged in the Battle of Hogwarts: 1978 Version! And this man... _or woman,_ Harry reminded himself, was nearly up there in the Lucius/Bellatrix level of magical strength! Plus, all enemies in the battle had been either killed fighting, or captured with the Apparition wards once Voldemort had died...

The Death Eater attacked Harry with single-minded viciousness, his face cloaked by shadowy folds of his Death Eater hood. Their battle went on for a while, lasting longer than the usual battles Harry had been experiencing lately. Unlike others Harry had dueled with, he actually had to pay attention to the figure attacking him, instead of playing around with him as he usually did with amateur enemies. Harry studied him between spells. Again, he was struck by how _familiar _he seemed, somehow!

The man - Harry had concluded that it _was _a man - was of a short build and had the look of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a very short period of time. His wand looked to be made of chestnut wood, and Harry thought he'd seen a strand of straw-blonde hair fly out from under the hood for a second. Yet, Harry still could not place his finger on the identity of his enemy.

Chancing a glance next to him, Harry saw that Sirius had been woken up by an frantic Remus. The Animagus was surveying his surroundings with an alarmed look, before wincing in pain and clutching his injured head. Harry turned his attention back to the fight at hand. Glaring at the Death Eater, Harry began to take him more seriously- not because he was losing control of the fight, but because he simply wanted to get it over with.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Harry said, reverting to an old favorite. His opponent seemed to be weakening, and he had only just managed to throw up a shield charm before Harry's spell ricocheted off it.

Harry took advantage of the man's fatigued state to check back on his friends. Sirius was struggling to stand, his head bound messily with an uneven strip of what seemed to be a conjured bandage. Halfway through his health inspection of Sirius, an elephant ran into him.

Or at least, that was what it felt like. Harry had never personally been hit by a Crushing Curse, though Tonks had in his time period while rounding up the last of the Death Eaters. His body was literally bowled over by the curse, and Harry cursed himself for letting his guard down. It was some of the worst non-Cruciatus pain Harry had ever felt. It hurt even more as his magical core from the magic he'd used during the entire quest is depleting very quickly from all the charms and spells he'd been casting.

Above him, Harry could hear Remus's outraged roar and more soaring jets of light passing over him as Remus and the hooded Death Eater began to duel. Harry was lying on his back, his entire body hurting. He allowed himself to stay there on his back for a while, staring at the flat blue sky. Everything hurt so much... he almost wished he could just pop back into the future already. He was sick of sniffing out all the Horcruxes for the _second_ time. It was only with an angered and possibly hurt cry from Remus that Harry was snapped out his daze.

Ignoring his pounding head and the burns chaffing against his clothing, Harry stood up in the middle of the fight between Remus and the Death Eater, facing the enraged man in the shrouded black cloak.

"_Expluso!_" The man shrieked, waving his wand furiously. Harry raised a shield charm almost lazily. For the first time in their fight, he was completely focused on their duel, ignoring his friends' welfare and the importance of keeping the battle unknown to the public.

"Give it up," Harry said frankly, looking at the panting man before him with something akin to pity. "Your master is dead. Your friends are either here, unconscious on the ground, or imprisoned. What do you want to gain?" Harry was truly baffled at why this man was fighting. In a strange, foreign way, he was actually impressed by the man's loyalty, however misguided and blind it may have been. He seemed to be one of the few Death Eaters who fought with Voldemort not for personal gain or "because it was the winning side", but for the actual cause.

"You!" The man spat, spittle flying out of his thin mouth. "I will kill you and avenge the death of the Dark Lord! And them..." For the first time they'd seen him, the man turned his shadowed face towards Remus and Sirius. His entire stance seemed to change as he looked at the two, who were glaring back. "Black and Lupin, the two betrayers."

Harry blinked. _Betrayers? I expected, maybe, "traitorous" and "half-breed" as insults. But not "betrayers." _

"Betrayers?" Harry questioned aloud, his brow furrowed. His adversary laughed coldly.

"You still don't recognize me, do you, half-blood?" the Death Eater said disdainfully. "Well, perhaps it's time for a little reunion..." He shrugged off his cloak slowly, letting it fall limp on the ground.

Everything seemed to freeze.

This time, it felt as if a herd of elephants had decided to simultaneously run over his head instead of just one. Harry's heart jumped out of rhythm, and he could feel it physically moving in his ribcage. Beside him, Sirius and Remus seemed to be having similar reactions. Sirius, who had finally managed to get up and stand in a stable position, fell down onto his back, his face a mask of shock and horror. Remus just stood there, staring at the person at hand with dismay.

It was the very last person Harry had expected to be able to reach levels of dueling near Bellatrix or Lucius. The last person Harry could imagine being the last rogue Death Eater. The last to be bound so blindly into servitude to Voldemort.

It was Peter Pettigrew.

"Yes, it's me," he spat, his substantially leaner, gaunt face contorting into a grimace. "'itty, bitty little Peter. Lapdog of the Marauders. Weak, useless, practically nothing!" He paused, his mouth twisting into a sneer before continuing, "Or at least, that's what I was before."

Harry, Sirius, and Remus were still shocked into silence.

"You left me! We were friends for nearly seven years, spending months and months lliving together, learning together, and you just left me when that stupid _new kid _came along. Then all anyone ever talked about was 'Harry this!' and 'Harry that!' You were _pawns _in his game!"

Peter Pettigrew looked positively crazy. His previously well-kept, reddish blonde hair was long and filthy, and his eyes a bloodshot red with a tinge of insanity. He had lost all his baby fat, and his body and face were strangely bony and out of proportion. Harry recognized this as a sure sign that Dark Magic had altered his body as well as his magical skill. His eyes, previously a pleasant sky blue, were now darker and somehow blank, with dilated pupils. They were the the eyes of a deranged beast, not a simple schoolboy.

"You exiled me, and didn't even tell me why!" Peter yelled. Harry was thankful this entire debacle was happening within the Leaky Cauldron wards, so Muggles wouldn't be able to see them. However, several horrified and confused witches and wizards were gathering around, peeking out of room windows, wanting to find out what was going on. Harry felt a sudden spurt of Gryffindor courage.

"You know why we exiled you, Peter!" He retorted, bringing his wand up so it was level with the boy's face. Again, Peter laughed a mad laugh that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

"You see, that's the funny part!" He yelled, rage once again disfiguring his haggard face. "I didn't, and still don't know why you stopped being my friends. The weaker version of myself once believed that it was because you no longer needed me, weak and scrawny Peter Pettigrew. But now... now, I'm glad. The doors you closed and the paths you blocked off to me turned into a whole new life - serving the Dark Lord!" his face lit up, and he tipped it up towards the deceptively bright sky. "The Dark Lord was a merciful master... he should have been much harder on me - weak as I was. But master was forgiving. He showed me power that had only exited in my wildest dreams, and gave me rituals so I could become stronger... strong enough to become a member of his force!"

Harry's eyes narrowed a little at his words. Something was wrong with this story, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

"And then..." he gasped, his breath making a hollow rattle in his throat. "_You killed my master._ You just couldn't be happy with destroying my life once, could you? You had to go and do it _again!_ But I'm finally strong enough to avenge my master now... finally strong enough to continue his cause! Ruling the wizarding world, eviscerating mudbloods and halfbloods like _you_!" He pointed his thin finger at the three of them, trembling in rage.

Harry, Remus and Sirius gaped. Peter really was... completely and utterly crazy. Not mad or a bit loony anymore. He was literally, down to the very core, _crazy_. Did he really believe he was as strong as Voldemort? Harry looked him up and down. No, he would never say that he could be anywhere near as strong as his _master_. Yet if that was true, why was he dueling Harry, who had proven himself to be stronger than Voldemort?

Something just didn't add up. Peter Pettigrew continued to rant, his soulless eyes taking on a darker tint of blue. Taking advantage of the man's distraction, Harry turned his head ever so slightly to look at Remus and Sirius beside him. They were staring at their unhinged friend with broken looks on their faces. It was one thing to be told their close friend of seven years was working with, and would eventually do horrible crimes for, the very epitome of evil. But it was different, and disturbing to see it in motion, even for Harry. Not to mention Pettigrew was actually _crazy _here. Not manipulated, scared and selfish as he'd been in Harry's native time. He was as loco as Bellatrix, and he'd never even _been _to Azkaban.

"Why are you doing this, Peter?" Remus whispered over Pettigrew's crazed rant, but was still heard all the same. Peter looked at Remus with pure, unadulterated hate in his eyes.

"Ahh, yes. Remus the friendly _werewolf_." Remus took a step back, looking hurt at Peter's low blow. "Well, here's some news for you, Lupin - it's not going to get better for you! The self-proclaimed 'Light' side will just shun you forever! But look at Voldemort's ranks - we have dozens of werewolves on our side! I'll offer this once - come and join our cause!"

Remus looked disgusted.

"There is no 'us' for you, Peter," he said. "You are the last of Voldmort's free supporters. Voldemort is _dead_! This time, he can't rise again!"

Muttering surrounded them at Remus's mentioned "this time." The werewolf's face blanched as he realized he'd accidentally given away valuable information to the enemy. Luckily, Peter didn't seem to notice. His eyes bulged, a wide grin spread across his face.

"My master's goals will always live on!" He screeched, and brought his wand down towards Harry in a downwards slash. Harry dodged, and something behind him exploded.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Harry cast, swishing his wand. Peter sidestepped easily, and laughed.

"Using second-year spells, are you?" He said coldly. "The Dark Lord must have been tricked into losing to scum like you. Unlike I, who have explored the darkest, most obscure depths of magic not touched for hundreds of years! I, who will continue the Dark Lord's cause under his name. Voldemort!"

Harry actually laughed at that. Not a mocking laugh nor a pitying one, but one of disbelief and a small tinge of hilarity. Peter Pettigrew looked livid, his face twisted in rage. "You think you could ever have even a _tenth _of Voldemort's power?" Harry asked derisively. "You're far stronger than you have ever been, Peter, I'll give you that. But Voldemort was one of a kind, no matter how much I loathe to admit it. You could never measure up to him, even if you have been working for him since sixth year!"

For the first time in their battle, Peter looked confused. He stopped glaring and looked at Harry in confusion. "Sixth year?" He echoed, his voice sounding the closest it had to the Peter Harry had known in Hogwarts. "I had not seen the beauty and rightful causes of the Dark Lord until only several months ago."

Harry's heart stopped._ A few months ago?_ He thought in trepidation. _But that would mean..._

"I was approached by Lucius Malfoy two weeks after your _abandonment _of me. He said the Dark Lord had seen my potential, unlike you, who would so hastily throw me aside. And the Dark Lord did! He taught me under his own hand!"

But the fact that Pettigrew had been taught by Voldemort himself was ignored by Harry. If what Pettigrew was saying was true, then the reason he had joined up with the Death Eaters was... _Harry himself_. It had nothing to do with the fact that Peter was weak and selfish. It was only Harry who was the driving force behind tearing him apart from the only friends he'd ever known without even an explanation.

Harry looked helplessly at Remus and Sirius. They looked horrified at what they- no, what _Harry _had done. Harry could see nothing but regret and self-inflicted blame in their eyes as they stared unseeingly at the cackling visage of Peter Pettigrew. _And,_ Harry thought, _it really isn't Peter Pettigrew anymore. This isn't the kind Gryffindor who adored James Potter. This is the hollow shell of him - corrupted by Voldemort._

And the worst part was, Harry had no one to blame but himself.

"And now..." Pettigrew gasped with maniac pleasure, "I shall take the first step towards following in the Dark Lord's footsteps! I shall kill you!" He turned his hateful eyes towards Harry and began moving his wand in the most complicated motion Harry had ever seen as a spell. He had been twisting and jabbing his wand in hexagonal shapes for about five seconds when Harry decided to take initiative. He had a bad feeling about this spell. He cast a stunner at Pettigrew, but it bounced off the invisible shield charm the Death Eater had cast around himself.

Harry was immediately alarmed. This movement and muttering had lasted for nearly fifteen seconds now! Only the oldest and most dangerous Blood Magic needed this long of a preparation. Harry's suspicions were only confirmed when Pettigrew withdrew a small scalpel-sized silver knife from his pocket and slit open his left palm, pressing it forcefully against his wand. Harry began attacking the shield with even more fervor. The shield charm was barely a few spells away from breaking under Harry's effort when Peter finished his spell.

"_Mundus Sepelio Eradico!_" Peter Pettigrew yelled at the top of his lungs, the name of the sinister spell ringing off the walls and echoing. He swished his wand a final time, a maniacal grin upon his face.

For a second, nothing happened. _Let it not have worked! _Harry thought helplessly. _Let it have failed... _For a second, he thought his pleas might have worked. Then, something cracked. Harry looked around wildly for what had made the sound. Nothing obvious was glaring at him. The Leaky Cauldron seemed to be okay. He turned back to Pettigrew, but the latter wasn't looking at him. He was staring at the ground below them.

Slowly, Harry turned his head to look at the uneven, cobbled ground beneath them. A small fissure had appeared, and was cracking open.

"_Desino! Consto! Arresto Momentum!_" Harry yelled frantically, waving his wand at the steadily growing crack, yet nothing seemed to be working. The crevice was moving from where it had started, around Peter's feet, towards Harry at an impossibly fast pace. Harry stumbled backwards, his eyes bulging at the speed. "_Duro Confuto!_" He tried a final time, and this seemed to work for a second before the crack broke through the spell and continued its way directly towards Harry.

"_Everybody run!_" Harry shouted to the crowd, and immediately began to sprint away from the crack. From the breaking sounds and screaming he heard behind him, the crack had sped up. He chanced a look behind him. _The fissure was actually _following _him. _

Remus and Sirius, who had run off in the opposite direction, seemed to be fine, and were half-heartedly throwing spells towards Peter, attempting to stop the destructive magic. Pettigrew himself was laughing uproariously, watching Harry sprint as fast as he could from the approaching crevice.

"_Impedimenta!_" Harry yelled, pointing his wand behind him. The spell glanced off the earthquake-like fault with terrifying ease, soaring over his head. By now, Harry was getting tired by all the foul play that had happened today. His burns were hurting more than ever, and his head was pounding at a fervent pace, which wasn't being helped by the running he was doing.

Harry muttered a few healing spells he'd learned in Magical Healing and Remedies class. They helped a bit, but not quite enough.

Harry immediately regretted running down the Muggle street Charing Cross Road. Behind him, he could hear the confused and frightened screams of Muggles, and a cacophony of car alarms going off. But where else could he have run? If he continued down this road, he would be running down the middle of London, not only wearing his wizard robes and clutching a wand, but chased by a large fissure that was slowly gaining on him!

He could only imagine the nightmare in the Ministry's Muggle Relations office! Not that that was his first priority, but still! He thought hard. Where else could he go, though? No matter where he ran, the gigantic crack would follow him. Unless..

_I could summon my Firebolt! _He was awash with relief, and then, barely a second later, horror. _No, no I can't! I placed it inside my bag; charmed to make the contents Unsummonable! _

"Arrgh!" Harry actually yelled aloud, half out of physical exertion, and half out of anger. Behind him, he thought he could hear Peter Pettigrew's nails-on-chalkboard laughter above the chaos. Suddenly, Harry was angry. Not just slight anger, but full hearted loathing towards Peter Pettigrew.

The man, no, _boy_, went friendless for what - a _week_ and he sees that as an excuse to join Voldemort? Then blame it all on his old friends? Harry had been disgraced by the entire wizarding community many times, sometimes even by his best friend, and had come out better than that! Not just better; he'd saved the very people who had made him an outcast so many times! How was that any different from what Peter Pettigrew had gone through?

_Okay,_ Harry admitted to himself, panting as he fled, _perhaps it was a bit different - as Peter had had no explanation for his sudden "dumping," but still! That's no excuse! There are no excuses for joining Voldemort willingly. _

Again, anger surged through Harry, saturating his very thoughts. Harry cursed himself for never taking initiative to learn how to fly without a broom as Voldemort had. Harry, who had by now run down about two blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron, was thinking fast. He had to get back there! The spell Peter had invoked seemed to follow him wherever he went without a mind of its own. So, theoretically, it would fall for simple tricks. Harry, taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, decided to try it out. He ran at full speed, weaving in between honking cars, towards a tall street lamp and quickly ran around it, running back the same way.

The fissure followed him to a tee, around four seconds behind him. Harry allowed himself a small grin between tired puffs of breath.

Now that he was running the opposite direction, back toward the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was feeling much more optimistic about his whole situation. Hopefully, Sirius and Remus had been able to at least weaken Pettigrew by the time he returned.

Harry turned his wand to point back at his chest again. "_Inflatio!_" he gasped, and was immediately treated to his first complete lung-ful of air since he'd started sprinting. Harry chanced a glance back at the crack following him. It wasn't letting up. Luckily, its top speed seemed to be slightly slower than Harry could run, when going his fastest. Unluckily however, Harry could no longer run that fast, as he was by now extremely tired.

_What am I going to do?_ Harry thought in dismay, trying again to stop the gaping crack through magic, and failing.

Harry once again entered Charing Cross Road, where he had started. Now that he was facing it, he could see the true damage Peter's spell had wrought. To his left, a Muggle was lying face-down on the sidewalk, her arm bleeding profusely. Next to her, a fire hydrant had been split in half, and was jetting water into the air. Harry was soon soaked, along with everyone else screaming on the block. Cars were sitting emptied on the street at strange angles, the ground beneath them cracked and uneven.

Somewhere, probably a half mile away, Harry could hear multiple sirens wailing as the police rushed to the scene.

Finally, the Leaky Cauldron came into sight. Witches and wizards had abandoned their anonymity and were out on the street, robes still on, casting spells left and right in an attempt to reign in the chaos. Only one wizard seemed unoccupied. Harry's blood heated as he recognized the figure. It was Peter Pettigrew.

He hadn't even left! Harry, despite his all-consuming anger at the former Marauder, had assumed he at least had the brains to get off the scene of the crime and find a secluded place where the Aurors, who were streaming out of the building right in front of his eyes, couldn't get him. Was he really that positive of his own power, and of the spell he apparently thought had by now killed Harry?

Then, Harry had an idea. A crazy idea. A possibly destructive idea. A bloody _brilliant _idea.

Nearly tripping over a piece of rubble, Harry continued to run pell mell towards the Wizarding pub, the fissure trailing him now by barely eight feet. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry suddenly saw Sirius working to magic parts of the street back together, and Remus running to help the bleeding unconscious woman he'd seen. He allowed himself a small smile at his friends.

Peter Pettigrew couldn't see Harry. At the moment, Harry could only see his back as he dueled two young looking Aurors who had apparently pinned him down as the source of the colossal mess. He was standing around forty yards from Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes and focused on the man, heading directly towards him. Feeling a sudden resurgence of adrenaline jump into his veins, Harry sped up his pace.

Peter was twenty-five yards away. Twenty. Fifteen. Ten. Harry sped up. The Aurors Pettigrew was fighting spotted Harry and were momentarily shocked into stillness. Harry supposed he couldn't blame him. He _was _the hero who had killed Voldemort and was currently rushing towards them with a gigantic fissure following him. Pettigrew took advantage of their shock and cursed them, causing them to fly backwards and fall unconscious against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron. Pettigrew turned around as if in slow motion as Harry approached.

It was only when Harry was eight feet away that he was able to gauge the situation. His blue, dilated eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and he began to raise his wand... but it was too late.

_Slap! __**BOOM! **_

Harry's speeding body slammed into Peter Pettigrew's stunned and confused one with all the strength he could muster. The Man Who Conquered rolled over Pettigrew, gaining momentum from shoving his former classmate backwards. Harry landed on the cracked cobblestone sidewalk next to the Leaky Cauldron in an ungraceful heap. Barely a second had passed since his landing when his acute sense of hearing amplified a nauseating _crunch _behind him.

The echoing bedlam of Charing Cross Road lessened considerably. His body aching more than it had in years, Harry managed to turn his body around to look at the scene behind him.

When he saw the results of his plan, Harry felt both triumphant and sickened. Barely two feet behind him, the jarringly wide crevice had come to a halt. However, its black, seemingly endless depths weren't what turned Harry's stomach. In fact, the fissure seemed to be healing itself before Harry's eyes, the pieces of rubble falling back into place as if pulled magnetically. No, it was Peter Pettigrew that made him feel sick. Harry fervently hoped that the former Marauder was dead, both for the sake of the Wizarding world, and for Pettigrew himself.

Harry was the last person to feel pity for Death Eaters after all they had done to him, but even this was brutal in every sense of the word. Peter Pettigrew had gotten stuck in the fault when it had closed. Harry's original plan had been just to push him in and see where that took them - he had suspected a broken leg or something of that result. Unfortunately for Pettigrew, Harry hadn't known that the crack would begin to fix itself.

When Peter had fallen into the crack, he had been able to grab onto the side of the chasm, or so Harry assumed. It was then that the fissure closed with the rumbling boom Harry had heard previously. Pettirew was suspended in the asphalt, body submerged into the concrete as if swimming in it. Only one hand was visible: raising up onto the top of the practically ruined cobblestone road where he had gripped the side of the crack to keep from falling in. Harry gagged as one of the fingers on Peter's hand twitched.

Harry noted with a sense of deja vu that it was the same hand Pettigrew had once used to resurrect his master.

Feeling only pity for the disillusioned and abandoned man in front of him, Harry picked up his wand from where it had fallen a couple feet to his right and pointed it at Peter Pettigrew.

Around them, chaos still reigned. However, all the sound had all fallen into a miraculously muted buzzing. Harry turned his head, ripping his eyes away from the tortured form of Peter Pettigrew to look at Remus and Sirius.

They were standing in the middle of the steadily decreasing confusion, staring at their old friend with an intensity that scared Harry, not that he could blame them. The loss of Peter Pettigrew, especially to such a disgusting end, would be equal to Neville going crazy and trying to kill Harry. A Neville who was much closer to Harry as Peter had been to the other Marauders.

Harry shivered, but consoled himself with the knowledge that Neville and Peter had nothing in common other than their shared Hogwarts house. Neville was the epitome of Gryffindor values - brave and honorable when it counted most, as well as loyal to his friends. Peter had always been either weak and manipulated, or unjustly angry and corrupt.

Remus and Sirius stared with sorrow at their former friend for as long as they could manage before turning their eyes back to Harry. Harry asked the question with his eyes. Though it looked as if it pained them, both Remus and Sirius nodded in unison.

Harry turned back to Pettigrew, painfully aware that Remus and Sirius were sure to be staring at them. He trained his wand back towards Peter and looked at the weak hand, still moving; grasping pathetically at the air. Trying to keep emotion away from what he was doing, Harry twisted his wand in a brief, sinister thrust.

"_Avada Kedavra._"

The all-too-familiar green light burst from Harry's wand and struck Peter Pettigrew on the center of his outstretched palm. The acid green shroud hung around the seemingly disembodied hand for a second. Pettigrew's bony fingers stiffened, and then relaxed into an unnaturally limp position.

Harry ripped his eyes off the Peter Pettigrew's concrete grave, shoving his wand into his back pocket. He wanted to get his hand off the murder weapon. Harry looked around. Sirius and Remus were looking down at their dust covered robes, trying to hide the tears slipping down their contorted faces. Everywhere else, the disarray had dimmed down to only mild destruction. The water jetting from the broken fire hydrant had halted and fixed. The last of the destructive crevice was disappearing before Harry's eyes. Aurors were milling around left and right - half of them staring at he, Remus, and Sirius with amazement, and the other (older) half yelling at the others to get moving and Oblivate the terrified Muggles.

Harry, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, helped himself regain energy through a spell. Not having the strength to preform more than one Apparition (and knowing it) Harry walked, head bowed, into the deserted Leaky Cauldron. His footsteps creaked noisily in comparison muted chaos outside. Half-finished meals and personal belongings were strewn everywhere - abandoned by his kinsmen when they ran outside to help the Muggles.

He made his way tiredly upstairs, and opened the door to their room. Waving his wand slower than he usually would have, Harry commanded, "_Pack!_" Their belongings flew into the bottomless trunk messily, not folding themselves or organizing as they usually did when Harry preformed the spell. When everything was in, Harry wordlessly shrunk the trunk and placed it into his pocket.

Still in a daze, he walked back down the stairs and outside onto the street. Remus and Sirius were sitting together on the sidewalk near the door of the Leaky Cauldron. They were huddled next to each other, talking in low, cracking voices. Harry, not even having the strength to raise his voice, nudged them with his foot. They turned their heads up, their bloodshot eyes outlined with red.

"We're leaving now," Harry said briefly. "Apparate to... to..." Harry's sentence stuttered to a halt. _Where can we apparate? _He wondered. Then, a thought came to him. "To just outside Number 12 Grimmauld Place." Sirius stiffened.

"There?" He protested weakly. "Can't we just... can't we go anywhere else?_ Anywhere?_" Harry bit his lip, feeling extremely guilty. He was just about to say, 'It's only temporary,' when he stopped. He had just killed one of their oldest friends right in front of their eyes. Remus and Sirius deserved a break.

"Sure," Harry said, granting reprieve. Sirius sagged with relief.

"My whole family probably isn't out of there, anyways," the dog animagus added. "Only about half of them were actually Death Eaters. The rest just supported from the sidelines." Harry nodded, resting assured that his decision had been a good one.

"How about the Shrieking Shack?" Remus suggested with a grimace. For obvious reasons, it wasn't exactly on the top of his "To Visit" list.

"No," Harry replied again, once again for his general pity towards his two friends and companions. "Meet me at the Burrow - Arthur Weasley's house. Do you know where that is?"

Remus frowned. "Yes, but-" Harry cut in before he could argue more.

"We'll just sleep there for the night," said Harry. "Then we'll move on." His friends seemed to accept this, and stood up with much more difficulty than would normally have been necessary.

And after taking a final long look at the partially visible corpse of Peter Pettigrew, they vanished with a simultaneous "_POP._"

**A/N: **Like I said - a shorter chapter. However, it encompassed a lot and was still a respectable length. Hope you liked it. Reviews are much appreciated!

~Aquahina


	27. The Burrow

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Okay, sorry it's out a bit late! Errgh! Anyways, though this is a stupid excuse, I am really busy with school work and all that crap. :)

Also, I'm going to request that my viewers please review my story. Not only does it give me motivation to update faster, but constructive criticism is put to use (you should have seen my unedited first chapter of this story!) and it really makes my day. For the time I put in to have fanfiction as a hobby, I think that you can spare a couple seconds to leave a message :-)

Here we go...

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Burrow**_

The next thing Harry knew, he was waking up. For a second, he was confused. Why was he laying in a swamp? Harry sat up, shivering violently as he wrapped his robes tighter around his body.

He balled up his hand and wiped a few gobs of muck off his face. Next to him, Sirius and Remus were sitting together, pale as death. For a second, Harry was alarmed for their safety, but later became aware that they had apparently awoken before he had.

His friends were huddled together, still and silent. Harry's stomach dropped with a mixture of pain and sympathy. He knew the wouldn't want him to feel sorry for them, but he couldn't help it. One of their best friends had tried to kill them, and betray all they had stood for as Marauders. Harry turned his head away, feeling vomit rising in his throat.

It's all my fault, Harry thought. For once, it was true - and he knew it.

In the past, when Sirius, Dumbledore, and countless others had died, he had blamed himself. In most cases, he had indeed been present for their deaths. But never before had he actually been able to do anything to save them, no matter how much he berated himself for his lack of action later.

But now, it went further than that. He was the reason for Peter's insanity, switching sides, and consequential death. He was the driving force behind all the sadness some of his best friends were feeling now. It was completely, utterly, and irrevocably his fault.

The worst part was, not even Sirius or Remus denied it. In a twisted way, Harry had hoped they would comfort him - despite the fact that he was obviously at fault. The fact that even they hadn't taken the time to help him hurt a bit.

Harry shook his head (causing his mind to spin in a savage headache) and straightened out his thoughts. What am I thinking? Harry thought to himself in disgust. They're the ones who deserve to be comforted now, not me. Never in my life have I really known or trusted Peter Pettigrew. I wasn't the one betrayed twice.

Harry stood up, glad to see he was much stronger. He raised his head, looking at the sky. It was dim and gray. He couldn't tell if it was dawn, or just past sunset. Harry frowned, and pulled out his wand.

"Tempus," Harry croaked, not having the mental strength to perform a nonverbal charm. Light spilled from the tip of his wand for formed three numbers. 4:48AM was what it read. Harry couldn't tell if he was happy, sad, or even put off by the realization that they had been lying in this swamp for nearly twelve hours.

As if triggered by his thoughts, Harry let out a vicious sneeze, his lungs seeming to rattle and grow dry. For the first time since he'd awoken, Remus and Sirius's eyes turned to Harry. If Harry had blamed himself before, he now blamed himself tenfold. Both his friends' eyes were rimmed thickly with red, and their bodies were caked with mud and duckweed. Sirius's lips were cracked and dry, while Remus seemed to have bitten his. They were covered with both dried and fresh blood. However, it did not seem like they took any notice of their physical ailments.

"We need to- we need to get up," Harry said, pausing in the middle of his sentence when his voice cracked more horribly than it had since his fourth year. "The Burrow should be around 50 yards that way."

Without speaking a word, or even comprehending what Harry had said, Sirius and Remus stood together. They leaned on each other in a way that was so dependent, Harry half expected them to join together to join as a single person.

They walked behind Harry, still not speaking. Harry sneaked a peek back at them, and his heart and morale sunk further still. They looked so.. dead. Their eyes were dulled - especially Remus', whose eyes were usually an expressive shade of amber-gold.

It seemed to take ages to walk to the Burrow. Harry had been correct in choosing the location to Apparate to, and was glad to see the familiar building as he remembered it - minus a broom shed and the chicken coop. The lowest floor was dimly lit.

Abandoning all forms of courtesy (they were ringing someone's doorbell at 4:00 in the morning, after all) Harry walked up the creaky red stairway to the front door and knocked.

For a second, there was silence. Then, hesitantly, a pair of feet shuffled towards Harry, Sirius, and Remus. A large, brown eye looked through the peep-hole. Harry made a weak attempt to smile, but failed dismally. The eye's pupil widened in shock, and disappeared. A second later, the door slammed open with a crash, and lo and behold - there was Molly Weasley.

It wasn't Mrs. Weasley as Harry remembered, though he was glad to see she still wasn't quite a "spring chicken." A young Mrs. Weasley, like a young Dumbledore, simply didn't compute into his calculations of life. In his figuring, she must have sprung from the sky as a curly haired, spoon-wielding mother. Now, she looked to be in her mid to late thirties.

"Good god," she whispered in fright and confusion. "You're- you're..." She couldn't even finish her sentence.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. It was beyond strange to introduce himself to her. "My friends and I were wondering if we might be able to find some shelter here."

For the first time, Molly Weasley seemed to notice Remus and Sirius. If possible, she looked even more shocked. She stood there for a second, her mouth hanging open, before jumping into action.

"Come in, come in!" She hurried them in, practically dragging them by their wrists. All three men were too tired to even say anything further. It was only when Harry fully stepped into the Burrow's magically heated kitchen that he realized how cold he had been. He sat down on a dining room chair and took off his soaked coat, tossing it by the coat rack, which bent to catch it.

Molly reached out to feel Sirius's forehead and gasped. Without saying anything further, she actually ran (Harry didn't think he'd ever seen her actually run before) out of the room. Something crashed, but Molly Weasley didn't stop whatever she was doing. A minute later, she returned with a large, peeling leather bag.

Quick as a flash, she set it on the table and withdrew a device Harry thought he'd seen once in St. Mungos. It was vaguely wand-shaped, and she held it in her hand before tapping it on Sirius's head. The dog animagus flinched at the unexpected touch.

Molly gave a sharp intake of breath at whatever results were being displayed to her. Harry was suddenly tired. So tired.

I'll just rest for a second, Harry thought, and rested his head on the top of the familiar table. And a couple seconds later, Harry was dead asleep.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The next thing Harry noticed was warmth. He smiled without really knowing why, and turned over. He was in a bed... a very nice bed. These covers are sooo nice and thick and comfy and...

Then, his eyes snapped open and he sat up as if he'd been slapped. The room he awoke in was familiar, though he didn't know quite where from. It was relatively small - about the same size as his bedroom at the Dursleys - and had powder blue walls. Hanging on the walls in an orderly fashion were a series of blue and black posters advertising various bands (primarily "Cauldron Clash") as well as what seemed to be a poster of runes arranged just like the periodic table.

Harry got out of bed, but he felt weird. Frowning, he looked down and saw that he was wearing the most clothes he'd ever seen on anyone. He seemed to be wearing at least three pairs of plaid pajama pants, two shirts, and a sweatshirt along with a thick, red hat and a messily knitted scarf. His hands, along with what seemed to be most of his body (beneath the woolen layers) were covered in bandages, with some sort of healing salve on them. Harry supposed it was for his burns. He could barely feel them any more.

Harry walked out the door, taking a last look back at the room in confusion. When he stepped out, he knew immediately where he was. He'd been sleeping in Percy's room! Well it wasn't his, technically... Harry knew Percy would be born in two or three years, so it wasn't his at the moment. Was it Bill's, perhaps?

Harry thought back to the posters, and remembered the one with the runes. Yes, the room had most likely belonged to Bill before it lodged Percy. Harry stepped back into the room for a second, calculating years in his head. Bill had to be... a first year this year? Harry was surprised he hadn't recognized him. But then again, Harry was rather used to seeing him as a fang-earring wearing, long haired twenty-something; not a sniveling first year.

Stepping back out into the hall, Harry made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen. To his relief, the Burrow seemed to be mostly the same. The steps were still rickety and squeaky; there were still assorted pictures, paintings and such on the walls. Best of all, the same people still lived here - though they were a fewer in number.

Harry reached the bottom of the steps and looked around. Molly Weasley was standing with her back to him, tending to several fried eggs by the stove. A young boy sat barely visible in the conjoined living room, leaping around on a toy broomstick. Harry sat quietly at the kitchen table, wrapping his layers of clothing tighter around him.

Minutes passed, and Molly still hadn't noticed him. Harry was rather enjoying the silence. With another sinking, guilty jolt of his heart, Harry wondered where Remus and Sirius were. Were they okay? He grimaced. If he was certain of one thing, it was that they were definitely not okay.

Harry most likely would have fallen deeper into self-inflicted guilt had Molly Weasley not shrieked at that exact moment.

"Harry Potter!" Harry started. He'd nearly forgotten that the entire wizarding world knew his real name now, and that he was from the future; though he was glad he'd never had to have a straight up interview about it yet. "What are you doing down here? Don't you know you have hypothermia, not to mention second-degree burns covering most every inch of your body!"

Harry raised his eyebrows. Hypothermia? He'd never really gotten anything worse than a fever before, sickness wise. He always seemed to be in the hospital wing for more danger-related things. However, he supposed it made sense. He, Remus, and Sirius had spent hours laying in a cold swamp after all.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "But would you mind if I had some food?" Her hard gaze softened, and she pursed her lips. A battle seemed to be commencing in her mind. Should she feed Harry, or send him up to bed? She glanced at his slightly bonier than average neck and looked resigned.

"Sit down, Harry," she said, practically shoving him into his seat. "I'll make you some breakfast. But after that, you need to go straight up to bed! Charlie!"

The little boy from the other room (whom Harry had not quite connected as the second oldest Weasley child) rushed in, still floating a foot or so above ground on a red toy broom.

"Yeah, Mum?" Charlie said, eyes fixated unwavering on Harry, mouth a bit open. "Whaddaya need?"

"Get Harry's dishes for him, and for Merlin's sake, what have I told you about proper language?" She sounded exasperated, and Harry grinned a bit. At least she was the same here. Charlie jumped off the broom and rushed to the pantry, eyes still following Harry with something akin to hero worship. As he stepped on the tilted, green stool to reach the cabinet, Harry smiled as much as he could after his trying day.

He'd have to remind Charlie of his idolization when he returned to his native time...

After his dishes were set, Harry accepted a good ol' fashioned Weasley breakfast. In other words, a veritable feast. There were sausages, several genres of eggs, bacon, red potatoes, orange juice, coffee (though Charlie was denied a cup), and more. After nibbling at thirds, which had been shoved at him by Molly, Harry excused himself - requesting that she save some for Remus and Sirius should they come down.

Harry wondered if they would come down at all.

Sitting in Bill's room, wrapped up in blankets, Harry heard Arthur shuffle down the stairs sometime around eleven in the morning, give a shout of disbelief, and then a rush of footsteps coming back up. They stopped by his door. Harry quickly pretended to be asleep. The door creaked open, and Arthur Weasley's head poked through, his red hair looking significantly less grey-striped than he had the last time Harry had laid eyes on him.

A few seconds of silent disbelief followed, and the door quickly closed. Muffled, tip-toeing footsteps went back down the stairwell. Harry opened his eyes, not feeling up to getting out of bed, and rolled over to face the wall.

_Bedroom on the Highest Floor, The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England_

It was the most silent either Sirius or Remus had been in a long time, even with the seriousness of their most recent adventures. Both aware that the other was awake. They lay on twin beds, one on each side of the room. Neither had really taken in what the room looked like, though, other than its bleak off-white ceiling.

They had been awake for about two hours, having coincidentally woken at the almost exactly same time. Sirius and Remus were also wrapped securely in thick sweaters and scarves down to their feet, which were wrapped in several layers of wool socks charmed to lessen aching from their almost-frostbite.

The smell of sausages, bacon, and coffee had been wafting up for the last thirty minutes but neither could bring themselves to get up.

"Are you hungry?" Sirius asked suddenly. Remus didn't turn his head towards Sirius when he replied, still staring.

"No," Remus answered briefly. A minute or so passed. "Are you?"

"Me neither."

"Oh, okay."

Sirius shifted his weight and turned to his left, facing Remus. "Did you see it?" They didn't need any explanation for what he was speaking of. Remus shifted too, turning to face Sirius's ashen face and overcast eyes.

"None of us saw it, Sirius," Remus said dully, no emotion creeping into his voice. "But we should have."

Neither contested this point.

"But how did we not see it?" Sirius choked out, voice cracking a bit. "He was a Marauder! One of our best friends!"

"He wasn't our friend when the Death Eaters first approached him," Remus said, bringing to light the subject they'd been avoiding. "We abandoned him."

Sirius sat straight up in his bed. "With good reason! We learned from Harry that in the future, let's see, oh yeah! He kills James and Lily, sends me to Azkaban for twelve years, then tries to murder Harry and his friends multiple times! He even succeeded in killing one of Harry's schoolmates, that Diggory boy!"

Remus didn't have the strength to get angry with Sirius. "You're right. But we shouldn't just have forced him out of the Marauders without any reason he knew. We even made him change dorms!" Sirius laid back down onto his bed, resuming his act of staring at the bare ceiling.

"We pushed him right into their arms," Sirius said softly. "It's our fault. We should have known that Peter never could stand to be without stronger people protecting him. We knew that. Why didn't we realize what we were doing?"

This time, it was Remus who sat up, looking at Sirius sympathetically before wincing a bit as his burns chaffed against the thick bandages on his chest. "That's just it. We weren't thinking. We got so wrapped up with the... the novelty of having our very own time traveler that didn't remember what was most important."

"It wasn't Harry's fault," Sirius said sharply, looking at Remus quickly.

"I'm not saying it was!" Remus defended. "Harry was blinded by his hate of Peter. He wasn't the one who lived with him ten months out of the year for our entire schooling career. He wasn't a part of the Marauders until just a couple months ago. Harry has never known Peter as a person. To Harry, Peter Pettigrew was a source of anger, and of guilt. Not a person."

"I thought you just said it wasn't Harry's fault!" Sirius said, raising his voice a little bit

"Again, it's not! Harry wasn't the one who was supposed to be on Peter's side. We were supposed to prevent him from becoming a Death Eater. We should have believed that we could change him, instead of taking his... his... viciousness for granted!"

"But we didn't," Sirius responded in a flat voice. "And now he's dead."

"Yes," said Remus with a chilling finality. "And now he's dead." And that was that.

"I miss James," Sirius choked out of the blue. "He would have known what to do. Hell - James doesn't know anything! Nothing about our journey... Peter... god, Peter. Do you think he'll have heard about him yet?"

Sirius was ranting, the corners of his eyes wet with a mix of anger and dejection. Remus attempted to calm him down.

"Sirius, James is-"

"Remus! James may be living in his little Lily-dating fantasy land right now back at Hogwarts, but can you imagine what he'll feel when he hears that we, his best friends, killed his other friend?"

Remus's eyes clouded as he contemplated what Sirius said, his Adam's apple bobbing with a gulp.

"We need to contact him," Remus said in a straightforward manner. "Before he hears about it in the Daily Prophet. It'll probably take them a couple days to get the story out... they'll have to- to-" he stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. "They'll have to dig him up, and figure out his identity. He isn't known as a Death Eater yet, so it will probably take longer than normal."

"You're right," Sirius replied, calmer now that Remus had conceded with his point. He looked at Remus tentatively. "Moony, do you think we could get him to leave Hogwarts?"

Remus gave Sirius a sad smile and sat down on Sirius's bed, patting his back. "I'm sorry, Padfoot, but that wouldn't be fair to James, or Lily, or anyone."

"But James would want-" Sirius started. Again, Remus interrupted him.

"Yes, James would want to be here with us. Believe me, if it were me, so would I. But the thing is, we have to think about what's best for him, and everyone else. If we were going to drag him away from Lily and Hogwarts, we may as well have done so when we first left! He has just a month left until he finishes Hogwarts as Head Boy. Can't we just give him that?"

Sirius was silent, understanding Remus's solid argument, although he did not like it. He gave a sigh, admitting defeat on that point at least.

"Fine," Sirius said, spitting the words out as if they had a foul taste. "But we can't just let him learn about Peter through anyone else."

There was silence. Neither men said anything, in silent agreement.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

"Harry, we need to talk." Harry jolted at the voice. He'd been laying silently on Bill's bed for the past three hours, unmoving. If there was one thing he hadn't expected, it was his two friends to barge into his room with hardened faces.

"G-guys?" Harry stuttered, more than slightly taken aback. "What do we need-" but he was cut off.

"First of all, Harry, no apologizing," Sirius commanded in a hardened voice. "We have talked, and acknowledge that this whole circumstance may be your fault partly. But if it's your fault, it's just as much our fault."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. It doesn't matter what they say, he thought dismally. It's my fault. However, that's probably not the best thing to say right now.

"Fine," Harry conceded. "What do we need to discuss?"

"James." This one name alone was enough to send Harry's mind and heart of of whack. How could I have forgotten! Harry mentally screamed, his mind in a frenzy. My father... oh Merlin, he probably hasn't heard about Pettigrew yet!

"We've decided that we have to be the ones to tell him about Peter." This time, it was Remus who spoke, a bit softer and more understandingly than Sirius. Harry blanched. He was by no means a fearful or cowardly person, but this was a shame he had to carry. He wasn't exactly exuberant to tell his only recently discovered father that he'd killed his friend. "James can't hear about this in the Daily Prophet. They are just going to bend it to their will."

Harry gulped, seeing their point with clarity. "I agree," he nodded.

"But we decided it's best if James doesn't continue this journey with us, despite our necessary meeting." Harry frowned at Sirius's words, trying to riddle out the point his friends were dancing around.

"How else are we going to tell him? We can't do it through owl post."

Remus and Sirius nodded in unison. "We've thought of this," Remus replied. "Sirius and I have decided that a Floo call into the Gryffindor common room would be the best way to gain communication."

Harry, despite the circumstances, smiled a little bit. The whole situation was too similar to his illicit Floo-meeting with Sirius in his Fourth year, not to be ironic. "Sounds like a good idea to me," said Harry.

"We can't schedule it successfully before the Prophet runs the story, though," Sirius said solemnly. "We'll just have to try to get everyone else out of the Common Room while we're talking to James and Lily."

Harry nodded. "When are we going to do this?"

Remus turned his head to the practical blue-rimmed clock hanging above the doorway of Bill's bedroom. "Well, as it's 1:37pm right now, James should be in Transfiguration - if I remember correctly. We should wait until 3:00 today, so he has his free period. He'll probably be in the Common Room."

"Shouldn't we wait until after dinner?" suggested Harry. "Then we can be sure he'll be in there."

"No," Remus replied firmly. "It'll be too busy then. That's when all the students will be there." Harry nodded in agreement to this point. It was very true. The post-dinner slot was easily the busiest time in the Gryffindor tower.

Harry looked at Remus and Sirius searchingly. He was surprised they had more or less recovered so quickly from Pettigrew's death. Harry noted their reddened eyes and pale faces. Well, perhaps not "recovered," per se. But at least they were making an effort to focus on things that they still had to do instead of wallowing, as Harry had been doing.

"Okay then," Harry agreed. "So we'll contact them today at 3:00. I'll go ask Molly if we can borrow her powder and fireplace at that time."

Remus and Sirius nodded, their expressions comparative to a deflating balloon. Now that their idea's big debut was over, they were back to... well, brooding. The tips of their mouths turned down, and they shuffled out of the room and up the stairs to their bedroom.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

About an hour and a half later, the three men were congregated around the fireplace in the Weasley's living room. Harry held a handful of floo powder in his hand. Taking a deep breath and clearing his throat, Harry threw it into the crackling fire. It shot up and turned brilliant green, illuminating the rest of the room in an eerie light.

"Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts!" Harry said loudly and clearly. The three friends got on their knees and simultaneously stuck their heads into the green flames.

Harry was in a whirling tunnel. It had been a while since he'd traveled or messaged through the Floo network, and now he was reminded why. His head bumped on the sides of the speeding chimney passageways, and he coughed out smoke. Finally, they arrived.

Harry, Remus, and Sirius looked around the room tentatively. Luck seemed to be on their side. Barely anyone was there - there appeared to be a total of only fifteen students, all fifth year and up. Sirius nudged Harry with his shoulder and motioned his head to a large, red chair in the corner.

Turning his head, Harry's heart jumped when he saw his father and mother snuggled into a large chair, each reading a book. Harry gulped. He hadn't seen his father in nearly two months... it was like seeing him for the first time again back in the Great Hall. His heart beat hard, reverberating in his ribcage, and his mouth grew dry.

"Oi! Prongs!" Sirius yelled. James Potter leaped out of the chair so fast you might have lit a fire beneath him. Lily spilled off his lap and onto the carpet, where she lay glaring at her future husband. James, however, didn't notice. He was looking wildly around the room, wand drawn. Sirius and Remus grinned.

The other occupants of the Common Room looked amused, and slightly confused as to where the voice was originating. No one seemed to have noticed the three men in the fire.

"Over here!" This time, Remus spoke. All eyes in the Common Room turned to the fireplace. Harry was immediately uncomfortable. James's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. Lily too, who he was in the process of helping up, looked shell shocked.

Harry's father rushed over to the hearth. "Sirius? Remus? Harry?" he whispered in awe, searching their disembodied faces.

"Those are our names, don't wear 'em out!" Sirius replied cheekily, seemingly having forgotten the somber reason for their communication. James sat back and laughed in astonishment and glee.

Around the delighted James, all occupants of the Common Room had gathered. They clumped together, whispering to each other in the excitement of both seeing their old House-mates, and (more importantly) the defeater of Voldemort - even if only long distance.

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. All eyes were immediately on him. Harry colored a bit, and he was glad his audience couldn't tell through the green flames. "Sorry, Gryffindors, but I'm afraid that Sirius, Remus and I need to talk to James alone." Grumbles erupted from those present.

"That's not fair!" Frank Longbottom said loudly. "We want to talk to you guys too. We haven't seen all three of you in months!" Harry gave a slight smile. He hadn't really gotten to know Frank during his stay in the 70s, but he wished he'd made more of an effort. At the very least so he could tell Neville about him when he returned.

"Sorry, Frank," Harry said, not conceding. "This isn't exactly happy business." At once, all people in the common room lowered their excitement level, and looked a bit worried.

"Okay, then," Frank Longbottom grumbled, his face screwed up in disappointment and annoyance. "Hope to see you later, Remus, Sirius. You too, Harry." Harry's other House-mates mumbled similar sentiments as they filtered slowly out of the Common Room, going either up to the dorms or out into the main building.

"Hey, Lily can stay, right?" James asked, face suggesting that this was less of a question and more of a statement.

"She may as well," Sirius said, returning to his solemn demeanor. Harry's mother settled down on a chair, looking at Harry's face in the fire searchingly. Harry's heart jumped when he remembered that Lily knew who he was now, seeing that he'd given James permission to let her in on the secret. Harry swallowed, a coal in the fire grate jittering where his Adam's apple would have been.

"So what's going on?" James asked seriously, sitting down on the thick gold carpet next to his girlfriend. Harry's mind blanked. How can I tell him this? he wondered, mind in a sudden frenzy. Remus, next to Harry, seemed to sense his sudden panic, and took over.

"James, how much have you thought of Peter in the last few months?" Remus asked gently. James frowned, trying to see what this had to do with whatever they needed to tell him.

"Umm... not much. Harry told us he betrayed us, so I don't see that as me being wrong, though." A spike of pain drove through Harry's chest at James's trusting words. "Why? Because he transferred out of Hogwarts, or just decided to leave, you know."

"Yeah," Sirius whispered, nearly too quiet for James to hear. "We know." Suddenly, James's eyebrows creased worriedly.

"Did- did something happen with him?" he asked. Seemingly unconsciously, James reached out his hand and clasped Lily's. She wrapped her other arm around his back, sensing that nothing good could come of this. Suddenly, Harry spoke up. This was his burden to bear. He had to tell his parents what had become of Peter Pettigrew, one of their former best friends.

"Yes, dad," Harry said, not withholding their relation to each other. Lily gave a little start. The fact that Harry was her son wasn't news to her, and apparently she'd had time to get used to the idea, but it startled her to hear it so blatantly. "Something happened."

Over the next fifteen minutes, Harry told Peter's story - or at least as much as they knew. He started with the beginning, with him telling James, Sirius, and Remus about the future, and their friend's role in it. Throughout the entire tale, James sat stock still, staring into the viridescent fire with an intensity Harry didn't know he had.

When Harry reached the part of the story in which their attacker was revealed to be Peter, James gave a little choke, visibly tightening his hand around Lily's. Lily, who was teary-eyed as well, snuggled closer to James for support. Harry, determination weaning slightly, continued on to tell them about his mistake.

Why it was Harry's fault Peter had turned to Voldemort.

"-and it just... closed around him," Harry finished, choking on the last words. "Like a... like a grave." James's hazel eyes were huge and his face white as a sheet. He appeared to be incapable of saying anything. His mouth opened and closed as a strangled noise reverberated from somewhere deep in his throat.

"James..." Sirius said softly, obviously wishing that the wards around Hogwarts didn't limit Floo networking only to fire-calls, prohibiting actual transportation.

James didn't answer. Harry wanted to stop with his story there, leaving out the part about him giving the final blow that ended Pettigrew's life, but he knew he couldn't. They had come this far in their story, they couldn't possibly stop here.

"Peter was still alive, though," Harry whispered. Lily and James's heads shot up, looking both hopeful and horrified.

"But... but you said-" Lily stuttered, sounding much more vulnerable than Harry had ever heard her.

"I had to kill him in the end," Harry said, voice strengthening with his resolve to tell them the whole truth. "As an act of mercy, not malice. Peter Pettigrew was a misguided man, coerced by the Dark Arts. But even he didn't deserve to live his life crippled beyond belief in Azkaban."

James still looked heartbroken and despondent at this sudden influx of bad news. He was incapable of speaking still. Harry looked down into the red hot coals burning just below his chin, wishing he could disappear.

"It's not your fault, Harry," Harry's mother whispered, scooting closer to the fire and looking directly into his eyes. Green met green, and despite the dire circumstances, Harry couldn't help but feel amazed with the fact that he was talking with his mother right now.

"Yes it is," croaked Harry. "If I hadn't forced you away from him, then he-" Lily smiled at him in a way that seemed to say, 'just listen for now.'

"We're all at fault here, Harry. It may have been you who told James, Remus and Sirius about what Peter would do in the future, but do you really think he wouldn't have gone to Voldemort anyways had you not pushed him away?" Harry opened his mouth to respond, then shut it quickly.

"But... but..." he stuttered. Lily smiled again, eyes watery.

"James told me that in your time, Peter was the reason for the deaths of nearly all those present. This was without you visiting our time period here." No more needed to be said. Unlike when Harry's friends had tried to explain to him why it wasn't his fault (or so they said) this argument actually made sense to Harry.

Harry let out a wet sob, his tears evaporating instantly by the licking flames.

"Peter was one of my best friends." This was James speaking. He seemed to finally have recovered his voice. "And it was wrong of all of us to push him away for a reason he knew not. However, that's in the past. Peter chose his own path, and that led to his death."

Harry fixed his eyes on his father, who had dried his eyes and was now looking more resolved than Harry'd ever seen him before.

"Thank you, Harry. All of you. Thank you for telling me before the Daily Prophet would. You have no idea how much that means to me."

At either side of him, Sirius and Remus smiled. "We knew that was what you would want," Remus said softly.

"Well, Remus, you were right, as always." Despite the circumstances, Remus let out a small bark of laughter at the old joke, then looked ashamed for laughing. "And thank you, Sirius." Sirius remained silent for once, grinning at James weakly. "And Harry - please, please return to Hogwarts before you have to leave this decade forever."

This sentiment was spoken quietly, and Harry knew that only the sudden flood of emotion in their discussion could have prompted this request.

"If all goes well, I should see you in your time. But for me, that won't be for years. For you, it'll pass for you in barely a minute."

Harry frowned. He hadn't thought of this before... but it was true.

"I'll try," Harry said honestly. "I can't guarantee you, though. We still have to get rid of the locket and the diary, and we only have a month!" James tried to look comforting, but mostly ended up sympathetic.

"Sorry, guys," he said. "I wish I could help... but I stand by my previous deciscion. I have to stay here with Lily for now." Next to him, Harry's mother leaned her head lovingly on James's shoulder and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Sirius pretended to gag.

"We understand," Remus replied, smiling. Harry supposed it was gratifying to see James together with Lily after all the hours Harry's father had spent mooning over her.

"Well, at least the locket won't be too hard," said James, trying to sound reassuring. "It's still in the cave, and you know how to get there, right?" Harry opened his mouth to retort. They had gathered that it would be in the Black's ancestral home.

Then, Harry's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. How could I have missed this? he shouted internally. Every muscle in his body relaxed. Well, that's one thing easier.

"Thank god you reminded me of that," he said, laughing a bit. "I guess I'm just so used to the idea that it's in Sirius' house." Sirius looked a million times happier.

"You mean we won't have to visit that hell-hole?" he said gleefully. Harry nodded, smiling in spite of himself. Sirius gave a whoop, his features bobbling in the flames as he shuddered with excitement and relief. "Thank god - I loathe my family."

Remus and James chuckled a bit sadly, and Harry refrained from giving him a sympathetic look. He knew all to well what it was like hating your family.

Suddenly, Harry felt a disembodied tugging feeling. In a flash, Harry remembered that he'd asked Mrs. Weasley to remind him when an hour had passed.

"I think... I think we have to go now," Harry said, sighing. Saying goodbye to his father and mother was about the last thing he wanted to do. "Sirius, Remus and I need to figure out a plan to continue with our journey." James and Lily nodded understandingly. Both turned their attentions fully to Harry. Said son began to feel a bit uncomfortable under such close scrutiny.

"Goodbye, Sirius, goodbye Remus," James said sadly. "Try to pull at least one prank on that squirt Bill's brother Charlie while you're there. Bill's pretty cool for a first year." Harry chuckled hollowly.

"Can do, Prongs," Remus said.

"I suggest glitter." James's suggestion sounded half-hearted as he tried to make light of the situation. Sirius grinned.

"I'm sure Molly Weasley's got a bit of it stashed away somewhere," the dog animagus replied. Then, James turned his attention again back to Harry. Lily's eyes, on the other hand, had barely left Harry since the beginning of their meeting.

"Harry..." James began, but apparently couldn't think of what to say. Lily took over.

"Harry, please be careful." She choked up a bit. "I know we may not really be your... your parents yet, but I hope someday we can be something like parents to you."

"You're the closest thing I've ever had to real parents by a long shot, even if you are younger than me," Harry replied, going a bit teary for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. "I'll try my hardest to come to Hogwarts before I need to return to my time."

"Thank you, Harry." Harry looked over his parents searchingly, taking in every pore of their skin, every crease in their intertwined hands. Then, without another word, he pulled himself back out of the Hogwarts Common Room fireplace.

As Harry was pulled further and further backwards towards the Weasley's house, he half considered trying to drag himself back to the Common Room, If only to get a last glimpse at their faces, impossibility be damned. Finally coming to his senses, he closed his eyes, letting the brick chimney walls flash around him with his parents' faces ingrained into his memory.

END OF CHAPTER

Well, I hope you liked it! I felt Peter's demise needed a fairly sappy chapter afterwards. Not to mention, I tied up a couple ends. :) Don't worry - I'm not abandoning this story now! I've made a promise to myself to see it thorough!

Anyways, as I said in the beginning; please review! Like I said, constructive criticism is highly valued, as is encouragement or any other note you would like to make. Getting reviews, positive or constructive, make my day!

Thanks, ~Aquahina


	28. The Cave

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; nor am I affiliated with any owners. (Unfortunately.)

_**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Cave**_

"Really, Molly," Harry protested, stuffing yet another knit jumper into his trunk. "We have enough sweaters to keep an army warm!" The Weasley matriarch huffed, and handed Remus (who she firmly believed to be the only responsible one in their posse) a wooden box full of clattering glass vials.

"Warming Potions," she explained with a disapproving glance. "Since you absolutely _insist_ of running off to Merlin knows where while you're still ill and burned!" Next to Harry, Sirius rolled his eyes in annoyance. Harry grinned. It seemed the two never really would see eye-to-eye - no matter the decade.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Remus said politely, stowing them into their communal trunk. Molly smiled at him warmly.

"It's no problem, dear," she said, giving him, then Harry, then Sirius (though grudgingly) a hug. "You're all sure you don't want any more food for your trip? I could just nip down to the kitchen and-" Harry interrupted her before she could get carried away.

"Thank you, but no thank you, Molly," said Harry. He turned towards Arthur Weasley. "And thank you, too, Arthur." The man smiled, wrapping his arm around Molly's waist.

"It's good to meet you, Harry. I hope I get to see you again. You've all been excellent guests." Arthur Weasley had been mostly quiet during their time at the Burrow, but now seemed determined to make his gratitude known.

Giving Molly and Arthur one last hug (and Charlie an affectionate ruffle of the hair), Harry, Sirius, and Remus jogged down the rickety wood stairs with haste. The three men strode through the overgrown garden, Sirius punting a garden gnome aside with a disturbing amount of amusement, until they reached the whitewashed gate.

Harry tugged the latch open and stepped outside the carefully constructed wards surrounding the Weasley home. Of their group, only he could feel the complex magic wavering and briefly sliding aside as they stepped out.

Once out of the gate, they looked around, feeling much more vulnerable than when they'd been in the Burrow. Then, they disappeared in a loud, "CRACK!"

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry Potter arrived in Basildon, England exactly four seconds later.

Basildon, population 18,000, was located around seventy miles from London - the location of Tom Riddle's "home," St. Mary's Orphanage. Incidentally, approximately three miles from Basildon was a small strip of rocky beach where local teenagers often came to have bonfires and drink the occasional bottle of alcohol taken from their parent's cabinets.

Once in a while, a tourist or two would happen upon this narrow area and stay for a picnic. To get the "authentic British feeling" of eating with the salt soaked air flying every which way. A school group had also been known to come here for a cheap field trip, not wanting spend money going to the local Aquarium or History Museum.

However, if one were to follow a bramble-covered trail upwards away from this tiny seaside beach, one would find a dark, damp cave. And inside this cave, Tom Riddle had left the locket of Salazar Slytherin.

This same trail was where three of the four (live) Marauders were walking, each with wands at the ready.

Harry could already feel the chills traveling slowly up his spine. The last time he was here, Albus Dumbledore had been within his last hour of life. Harry was only glad they'd managed to navigate around having to do the taxing swim once again.

"Are we almost there?" Sirius whispered, seemingly unsure why he was being so quiet. Harry nodded morosely. He could see the rough, rock mouth of the cave around eighty yards ahead with his magically enhanced eyesight, though his friends couldn't yet. Thirty seconds later, Remus gave a small gasp.

"There it is," the werewolf said. For a second, the three stood side by side, simply staring at the gaping, stalagmite and stalactite encrusted entrance. Harry gulped. This was the first time they were pretty much running in without a plan. Had Snape been there, he surely would have sneered at the pure "Gryffindor-ness" of their plan. Or, rather, lack of a plan.

In a rush, Harry's mind was full of flashbacks; Dumbledore and he clambering up out of the freezing water crashing and howling barely twenty feet away from their current position. Harry shivering until Dumbledore cast a Warming Spell on him. The blood sacrifice. The boat. The potion... _the Infiri._

Without a doubt, the defences were the same. The only difference was that this time, the actual Horcrux was there, and not just a replica planted by Regulus Black.

Next to Harry, his friends sized the cave up with cautious eyes. "This is it, then." Sirius stated rhetorically. Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward towards the dark chasm. He had taken only a couple steps when Remus said,

"Wait!"

Harry halted immediately, searching around the dense trees for any sign of danger. There seemed to be none. He turned his head to Remus, cocking it slightly in confusion.

"Here - each of you take one of the Warming Potions Molly Weasley gave us," Remus said swiftly. "Getting cold slows your joints and reactions. Also, I've read about Infiri." Harry had already briefed them about the dangers of the cave. "They have two weaknesses, open flame and extreme cold.

"However, a simple '_Incendio_' or '_Flagrante_' curse won't cut it." Sirius and Harry paid close attention to Remus's grim words. "I've researched some more... effective fire conjuring spells in the past, however. A larger-effect one is '_Flamma Orbus_.''

Harry was already familiar with several larger effect fire and ice spells, so he didn't pay too close attention. Sirius, however, was eagerly taught the wand motions. He practiced for a couple of minutes before deciding he knew it well enough.

"Come on," Harry said, motivated once again. "Let's go."

The cave was just as Harry remembered. Despite the fact that it was only about 1:00PM, and that the sun was uncovered by clouds, all natural light seemed to disappear only a few yards into the tunnel; as did the sound of the crashing waves against the rocks outside. Instead, they were treated with the resonating sound of dripping water as it echoed off the walls.

"_Lumos_," whispered Harry. His friends did the same. Holding his wand in front of him, they proceeded into the dark cave, studiously avoiding deadly sharp stalagmites shooting up from the stone ground. Finally, they reached the apparent end of the cave.

Remembering what needed to be done, Harry held out his arm with a grimace. "_Diffindo,_" Harry said, twirling his wand and pointing it towards a small portion of his wand. Unlike other Dark cutting spells, this was meant for non-humans and was therefore less powerful. Sirius and Remus realized what he had done and made small noises of outrage.

Harry grimaced in pain as a few droplets of blood fell from his lightly lacerated arm. Immediately, the seemingly solid stone wall before them fell away into chalk-like dust. It piled in heaps on the wet ground, having no wind to blow it away. Tentatively, the three friends stepped forward.

They needed to walk barely a couple yards until they found it. Or rather, Sirius very nearly fell into it.

The Lake.

It seemed even larger than it had upon Harry's first visit here. The Lake was dark beyond belief, its surface so smooth and motionless one may have believed it was glass. Harry stared into it, almost hoping to see tell-tale signs of movement in its depths.

"_Lumos Maxima!_" Remus whispered, throwing his wand arm forward as if tossing the light. The larger than normal ball of light flew from the tip of his wand over the water. It hung brightly above the sinister body of water like a ghost, casting eerie shadows.

"You said there was a boat, right?" Sirius confirmed, looking around the rocks but finding nothing.

"Yeah, Dumbledore pulled an invisible chain out from somewhere around here," replied Harry, feeling around the ground. It couldn't be that hard to find...

After a couple of minutes searching, Sirius found it. Remus, his strength having dramatically increased (the full moon was in three days, after all) pulled it from the water with little effort.

"Dumbledore said only one person could pass over," said Harry, frowning at this conundrum. "Or, at least, one person of age. And unlike before, all three of us here are over seventeen."

There was silence. Harry was loathe to admit it, but he hadn't thought this as far thorough as he should have.

"You don't think we could just... you know... pile into the boat, do you?" Sirius asked, poking the boat as if to test its sturdiness.

"It's not a weight measurement, Sirius," Remus replied for Harry, walking around to look at the silver rowboat from a side view. "It's measured in magical power. If we all just got in, I have no doubt we'd sink once we got far enough out so we couldn't protect ourselves from the Infiri."

Harry nodded. This was what he'd been thinking. "Theoretically, we could just fight our way through," Sirius suggested after a couple more seconds. "I mean, who ever said we had to use the boat?"

"What about he Infiri?" Harry asked speculatively.

"I did say _fight _our way through, Harry," Sirius teased. "And I didn't just mean through the seaweed." Remus rolled his eyes at their friend's bad (not to mentioned ill timed) joke.

"That could work, I suppose..." Harry said with a doubtful tone. "However, before we do anything we need to discuss the potion itself."

At once, the mood took a dark turn. Sirius's eyes clouded. "I'll take it," he offered firmly. He bit his lip. "I don't have as much... hardship in my life as you two. My family may not have been the best, but they weren't as bad as yours, Harry - and that's not even going into the Voldemort issue!" Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius interrupted again. "Plus, we only know for sure that this doesn't kill people with completely human blood. I hate to play this card, Moony, but you're a werewolf. For all we know, this could be fatal to you!"

Remus shut his mouth, seeing no good argument against Sirius's point. It was very true. Many potions Harry had learned of in Hogwarts and the Auror Academy had come with warnings not to be used on people with creature blood in them. Not only werewolves, but Veela, Giants or half-giants, vampires, mermaids... just because a person had full human intelligence and cognitive abilities didn't mean their internal systems worked the same way.

This lacking was the reason it had taken so many years for the Wolfsbane Potion to be created. Harry bit his lip. He hated to admit it, but Sirius was right. Remus was out of the running for sure; as was he. Merlin only knew what Harry would see when he took that nightmare of a Potion.

And Harry absolutely refused to use a house elf or another creature they could possibly get to take the potion. That was what Voldemort had done. If Harry stooped to his level, he was no better than the mass-murderer; using people and creatures only as tools. Harry gulped, grimacing as he tried to imagine what Sirius might see... luckily, he hadn't been in Azkaban yet, but he would surely still have terrible memories from Grimmauld Place.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"_Leo Flammus!"_ Harry yelled, using the same fire lion he'd defeated Voldemort's water snake with in their battle. Albeit smaller. They were in an enclosed space, after all. The red-hot mammal roared deafeningly and pounced through the air, incinerating Infiri left and right.

Harry, Sirius, and Remus had been battling the seemingly endless army of Infiri for nearly ten minutes and the onslaught was showing no signs of slowing. Next to Harry, Remus and Sirius were casting a Combination Spell using a Frost Charm and an _Aguamenti _to create a deadly ice spear. The weapon was expelled and slammed through several of the undead before freezing them. Like stone statues, they iced over and sank like rocks into the dark water.

Harry physically kicked one of the sickly looking, pale creatures away, sending a Freezing Charm after it. Harry's mind wandered. All this fighting lately was getting rather boring... first Voldemort (though he could hardly call that one "boring"), then Death Eaters, then Peter Pettigrew, and now these Infiri... not to mention the various Horcruxes, all of which had put up a valiant fight.

Exhaling in an annoyed manner, Harry sent a particularly strong Flame-Freezing Hex towards a group which had gotten uncomfortably close to Sirius. Really, how many Infiri were under this lake? His guard let down a little, Harry turned, managing to dodge just in time to avoid an Infiri which had flung itself towards Harry bodily - its flaccid, bony arms dangling.

Harry released another fire-lion. Then an eagle, a badger, and a snake, as he felt a bit guilty for his House preference. After all, though lions were the most fierce of the animals listed, they weren't necessarily the best.

Finally, the number of Infiri seemed to be dwindling. Less of the zombies were leaping and hissing out of the water, and more were sinking down into it, imprisoned souls released. And that was another thing that made Infiri-fight so much less... real. It was almost like a video game or a movie in that the other side wasn't "real," or thinking. Harry was doing them a favor by allowing their souls to pass onto the next life.

When the last (visible) Infiri had been cut down by an impressive orb of flame, compliments of a rather self satisfied Sirius, Harry allowed his muscles to relax. They were still on the bank leading to the pounding Ocean only around 100 yards away. Instead of undertaking the risk of going by boat before attempting to battle against the Infiri, Harry, Sirius, and Remus had decided to beat them while they were still on shore.

The island and lake now looked considerably less scary with one of the main defenses gone. The only reason Harry had decided Sirius would be the one to take the potion was because now, without the Infiri guarding it, it would be simple to acquire the water needed to soothe his mind. In concept, at least.

"Come on," Remus urged. "Let's get to the boat just in case there are more." Harry frowned.

"The boat won't work," he said. Remus started, as did Sirius, who was halfway into the silver rowboat. He jumped back out of it as if Harry had said it was poisoned.

"But... you said-" Sirius contested, but Harry interrupted.

"Dumbledore told me that it can only hold one adult magical signature. All of us here are over seventeen, and therefore adults. Voldemort was counting on the Infiri keeping us from crossing without the boat, but I think we'll be okay now."

Remus nodded shakily, and flicked his wand wordlessly. A large brown boat appeared out of thin air. It was less elegant than the eerily beautiful, streamlined boat Voldemort had provided - but Harry could see it was far better protected. The sides were high, and three wooden slats crossed the sides of the boat as seats.

Wordlessly, the three friends piled in. Remus in front, supplying the power, Sirius in the middle (Harry had insisted that he was already doing enough by taking the potion), and Harry in the back, steering with a paddle.

They made good time, as it was just a straight shot to the little island. Ignoring his instincts, which were telling him not to look into the inky water, Harry bent his neck over the side and peered into the water. It was impossibly still. Not a current, nor fish, or even drifting plant moved. Even the surface ripples their boat was causing were tiny, and they disappeared in an unnaturally short time.

It was as if the water, like its only inhabitants, was dead.

Finally, the boat scratched up onto the little pebble beach of the island. Harry jumped a little. He hadn't realized they were nearing the area. In front of him, Sirius was pale. For all his chivalry and determined facade earlier, it was clear that he was petrified of having to down the potion.

They stepped ashore, wands out. Immediately, Harry's eyes fixed upon the green-glowing Pensieve-like pedestal which held the locket Horcrux. Though he couldn't see it from this slightly lower ground, Harry knew it would be filled to the brim with clear liquid. And, most importantly, that at the bottom would reside one of Voldemort's two remaining Horcruxes.

A little thrill of excitement ran through Harry's nerves as he realized that they had indeed destroyed nearly all the Horcruxes.

Then, a second later, he returned to his serious demeanor. This wasn't the time for good humor.

In silence, they walked up to the illuminated pedestal. When they finally reached the rock on which it was perched, Remus and Sirius began to seem nervous. Gritting his teeth, Harry learned his head over the bowl of liquid. It looked nearly exactly as it had before.

Experimentally, Harry neared his hand towards the liquid. As it had before, his hand was repelled before it got within eight inches of the bowl.

"You don't have to do this, Sirius," blurted Remus, looking frantic. He gripped Sirius' wrist in an attempt to stop any movements he might make towards the potion. Sirius' face was stony.

"What other choices do we have, Remus?" Sirius asked gravely. "We're running out of time! We've already decided that neither of you can take it, and we're not going to force-feed it to a magical creature. Harry's told us how that messed up Kreacher."

Harry noted that his godfather didn't speak with the normal venom he used when talking about his family's house elf.

Remus's eyes clouded as he thought furiously. Then, an understanding expression dawned upon his face.

"Harry, you said that the potion needs to be drunk, right?" He said excitedly. Harry nodded, wondering where his friend was going with this. "Well, what if it wasn't a human who drank it?"

"We just said that we're not going to use-" Harry reminded a bit harshly, but Remus interrupted him.

"I'm not talking about house elves! What if we used an Infiri?" Harry's heart jumped. He'd never even thought of that... would it really work? Infiri were dead, after all. It wasn't as if they had any conscious. They were humanoid puppets. The point of the potion was presumably to bring about bad memories... but what bad memories could a soul-less creature have?

But just when he was getting excited, his stomach dropped in disappointment. "But we just killed all the Infiri in this lake, Remus," he reminded the excited werewolf. His friend seemed to droop at this realization. "It was a good idea, though."

Sirius, however, didn't dismiss the idea nearly as quickly. "What if we could make an infiri?" he said, sounding half ashamed at his idea. After all, the creation of Infiri, even for such a good purpose, was some of the darkest magic you could cast.

"We don't know how to make Infiri," said Remus sharply, not liking where this was going. "It's not exactly school-approved material." Sirius shifted uncomfortably.

"I know how," he mumbled, staring at the steely gray stone beneath his feet with concentration. Harry's eyes softened. Sirius' family must have taught him... Sirius had earlier admitted to knowing how to cast Fiendfyre, and several markedly dark curses. However, Harry had never actually seen him cast them.

"Your parents?" Remus confirmed softly. Sirius nodded, looking ashamed. "They taught Regulus and I how to create several types of golems to bring into battle... but Infiri was the darkest type. It's relatively simple, actually, especially since we have all these pre-prepared b-bodies right here." His normally strong voice stumbled a bit over the word "bodies."

After a hesitant (yet unanimous) decision to at least try, Harry drew his wand.

"_Accio Infiri!_" he said, pointing his wand towards the inky water. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, with a quiet splash, a pale corpse flew out of the water. It flopped in front of them like a dead fish, pebbles crunching beneath it.

Gulping and looking like he'd rather be almost anywhere else, Sirius stepped forward, wand pointed at the body.

"_Mortuus Genero,_" he whispered throatily, his wand twitching. A thin, pale green beam of light came from the end of his wand and hit the very center of the body's chest. The light continued to stream from Sirius' wand, as if it were liquid pouring into its chest. The sickly green color filled the former human, and over the course of about a minute, it began to inflate with the green magic, as if the spell were flowing into its blood stream.

Finally, Sirius ended the spell, wand arm shaking. The spell had obviously taken a lot out of their friend. Remus steadied him, patting him on the back. Harry, however, was focused solely on the newly created Infiri lying motionless before them.

"It won't hurt us," Sirius said, voice exhausted. "We're its creators. We hold the strings. It's not like all Infiri are automatically evil - it's just how they've been used." Harry was suddenly glad Hermione wasn't here. Who knew - the "Society for the Promotion of Infirius Welfware" might have been on its way.

Sure enough, a second later, the Infiri's eyes snapped open, pupils adjusting, and stood up. No expression was on its face as it looked sightlessly at the three friends. The Infiri's naked body and decaying skin stretched against protruding bones were sick, but even worse to Harry was the fact that they were using a dead body to do their dirty work. He grimaced, but managed to hold his stomach down.

Sirius wordlessly flicked his wand towards the pedestal. The Infiri walked zombie-like towards the clear potion. Though Sirius gave no verbal instruction, the Infiri seemed to know what to do. Harry held his breath in anticipation as it picked up the cup Sirius had conjured and dipped it through the force field and into the bowl, scraping it against the bottom of the potion.

Still without emotion, the Infiri brought the goblet to his bone-white lips and poured it into his throat. The liquid trickled down his esophagus without a swallow. Harry let out a breath. It seemed to be working. Seven more times, the Infiri - who was looking more sickly by the second - drank the potion. Finally, the clear liquid seemed to be gone. The hollows under its eyes now as deep and dark as canyons, the Infiri reached a shaking hand into the bowl and withdrew the locket.

Harry's eyes zeroed in on the necklace, searching it desperately. He gave a barely perceptible sigh of relief. It was Salazar Slytherin's locket, not a knock-off. The green emeralds forming a stylized "S" on the front proclaimed it as such. Though all his senses screamed at him not to put anything other than a wand point near the terrifying Infiri, Harry stretched out his hand. In a final burst of stumbling movement, the Infirius dropped Slytherin's locket into Harry's hand.

Harry grasped it, his body temperature and mood lowering instantly.

Sirius, from behind Harry, pointed his wand at the humanoid in front of Harry. "_Absentis,_" he murmured. Harry thought he saw the briefest flash of relief in the Infiri's blank eyes before it crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Let's go," Remus said quietly, staring mournfully at the fallen Infiri before him. Sirius, too, was looking at the golem, pale faced. Harry was reminded painfully that, were it not for Remus, Sirius would have been the one to have taken the potion which had reduced Albus Dumbledore to a barely conscious wreck. The fact that it had had an effect even on an Infirius, which was (in essence) a soulless creature, only increased Harry's fear of the liquid.

_At least, _thought Harry,_ it's gone now. _

Just as they were turning away to pile into the boat again, Harry withdrew his wand and pointed it again at the Infiri.

"_Duro Induco,_" Harry said. An orange jet of light sprang from his wand. The color startled Harry for a second. He'd gotten used to the dismal atmosphere of the cave. In a quiet movement of soil, a rectangular shaped hole was cut into the rocky ground of the island. "_Wingardium Leviosa,_" Harry said nostalgically. The limp body floated upwards just as smoothly as Hermione's feather had, so many years ago, and dropped softly into the grave.

The Infiri's open eyes shut, and his arms crossed over his chest. Harry twitched his wand once more, and the dirt and pebbles from the tiny beach flew back over the body, hiding it from sight. Only a small, unmarked rock was left as a makeshift headstone.

Remus and Sirius had been watching this with silent despondency. Without saying another word, they piled into the boat. Harry stowed the locket deep into his robes pocket, buttoning it up afterwards.

With barely a scraping noise, their boat pushed off from the island, leaving it looking almost just as it had when they arrived.

Harry closed his eyes in both physical and mental exhaustion.

_Only one more to go. _

**END OF CHAPTER**

_Well, I hope you enjoyed chapter twenty-eight. It was fun writing it. :) _

_Reviews, as always, are much appreciated! A little constructive criticism or encouragement go a long way. _

_I'll try to update soon, if at all possible. Happy Holidays!_


	29. Unpleasant Surprises

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Hope you enjoy the chapter... this story is finally coming to a close, about thirteen chapters later than I thought it would. :)

_**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Unpleasant Surprises**_

A snow leopard, a black dog, and a werewolf were running through the woods. It was dark, and though thick foliage hid most of the sky, the blurry florescent outline of a full moon was visible.

The werewolf howled in victory as it caught up to the snow leopard. A toothy grin upon its face, the leopard conceded and made a subordinate bow. The werewolf grinned, displaying its mouthful of two-inch fangs.

Remus Lupin was actually having fun this full moon. Though he'd experienced one moon already outside Hogwarts, the free feeling of having no boundaries was back with this new transformation location. Harry, who had stored some Wolfsbane Potion under a well-cast Stasis Charm, had administered it.

Remus felt free as a bird, though his coat was looking a little worse-for-wear; a shout out to the still visible peeling burns covering his chest and arms.

Sirius and Harry were in high spirits as well. They'd managed to do what had previously seemed impossible. They had fifteen days, and only one Horcrux left to obtain and kill. It didn't seem like much time, but they already knew where the Diary was (Malfoy Manor), and multiple ways to destroy it.

Sirius was still feeling relieved that he hadn't been forced to take the unidentified potion in the cave. The black dog gave a yip and bounced cheerily off a tree trunk. He barreled into the werewolf, who gave a surprised yowl, rolling over, and nipping the dog's side in a playful yet warning show of dominance.

It was a scant few hours before the smoky orange sun peered up from behind the treeline. Fog blanketed the dew-damp earth, muffling all sounds. The forest itself was also quiet, only the occasional bird cry breaking the serene silence.

Harry, Sirius, and Remus were sleeping in a small, deserted cabin. They had happened upon said cabin by accident. Or, rather, Harry had Apparated them onto its roof. He had been picturing the woods here, but (presumably) the cabin would be torn down before the younger Harry would happen upon this section of the Kalmar Woods.

The cabin was extremely small, smaller than the upper floor of number four, Privet Drive, and extremely drafty. Small animals of undecided species scuttled around beneath the floorboards. But still, they had found blankets, near-frozen water, and some canned food in it so it really wasn't all bad.

Harry rolled over in his bed. Well, his and Sirius' bed, really. There were two rather large beds in the cabin. They had unanimously decided that Remus deserved his own bed, as he was in the throes of recovering from another night as a wolf. Harry really didn't mind sharing a bed with Sirius. There had been no time to get uncomfortable, as they'd both fallen asleep within a minute of hitting the hay.

Groaning and rubbing his left thigh, Harry pulled himself out of the layered blankets. Trying to ignore the freezing floorboards beneath his holey socks, Harry padded to the small kitchen and pulled out a pan. Mindlessly, he waved his wand. The metal lid of a lentil soup can came off with a metallic crunch. The soup poured into the pan.

"_Incendio,_" Harry muttered, pointing to the wood logs under the stove top. They were bone-dry, having remained in the abandoned cabin for who knew how long. They lit as if dipped in kerosene.

Harry shivered, glancing out the small fogged windowpanes. All he could see was dense forest, dripping with dew. Harry looked at his hand, which he had raised to wipe the fogged glass. His hand, once covered in painfully peeling burn marks, was now only slightly red. The combined effects of Molly Weasley and time had seen to that.

He flexed it. It felt better as well... thinking back to his semester of Magical Healing and Remedies class at Hogwarts, Harry pointed his wand at his hand. "_Aduro Condico," _he whispered. Unfortunately, when he'd left, they had only just begun their unit on healing burns. He'd already gotten rid of aches and pains and the odd laceration, but beyond helping them heal a little bit faster, this was beyond him.

Nevertheless, he felt minutely better. Harry yawned again, stretching his arms out. It was a good feeling, only having one Horcrux left to destroy. He'd never really gotten to relish in it the first time around... he would have had to enjoy the feeling somewhere between having the Killing Curse cast on him, and seeing seeing Neville frozen with a burning Sorting Hat on his head.

He felt... accomplished. Startlingly so.

Pulling out his wand, Harry turned it in a silent, circular movement. A large, wooden spoon appeared out of thin air. Harry stirred the lentil soup absentmindedly. He was actually a remarkable cook, one of the only practical skills living with the Dursleys had provided him. However, Harry couldn't cook a single thing before around 11:00AM. After the first month of their marriage, Hermione and he had worked up a system - she would cook breakfast, and he would do lunch and dinner.

For one of the first times since he'd began their adventure, Harry allowed his thoughts to drift to Hermione. He sighed. It had been _so long_ since he'd seen her! Even with her brief visit back at Hogwarts, it was easily the longest he'd been without seeing her since first year.

Harry glared, half-pouting, and levitated even portions of soup into three bowls with perhaps more force than was necessary. In another totally unnecessary use of magic, Harry levitated the bowls over to the small, wooden table unwisely placed in the center of the kitchen.

Cracking his neck, Harry padded over to Sirius and poked him in the ribs, hard. Sirius gave a muted yelp, his voice muffled by his drooled-on pillow. Sirius flipped over, so his face and rats' nest hair were visible. He glared, though he looked about as menacing as an angry bunny.

"You didn't need to wake me so rudely," Sirius griped moodily. Harry said nothing, just poking him again. "Fine, fine, I'm up already," said Sirius, sitting up and summoning clothes from the open trunk by the door. They flew to Sirius and he began to strip. Harry snorted, and turned away. Sirius never had had any sense of modesty.

Markedly more gentle this time, Harry approached Remus. He knew that the werewolf would be extremely sore right after the full moon. If not for the Wolfsbane, Harry, and Sirius, he would likely need a healer. Harry gently pulled his friend's cover off, revealing a pair of torn clothing. Tapping Remus' chest, Harry cast a diagnostic spell.

Examining the results, Harry exhaled a sigh of relief. It was nothing he couldn't fix, even with barely more than a semester's healing training. Harry moved his wand over Remus' body, beginning with the toes. Concentrating on keeping his magic just under the skin, Harry healed all bruises, cuts, and pulled muscles his friend had acquired.

Healing was, in concept, not a difficult class to understand. Almost all genres of it involved channeling magic under the skin. In theory, Harry probably could do the same to his burn marks. However, depending on his luck, they would end up in one of two ways.

_Option A;_ they would heal perfectly, and would cause them no trouble.

_Option B;_ they would increase to a point worse than the original injuries, possibly branching off into nerve bundles and causing temporary paralysis.

For easily understood reasons, Harry was not willing to attempt this.

Remus stirred, feeling the calming effects of Harry's magic. His eyes flickered, and he squinted, trying to get used to the sudden intake of light. "_Mrrph?_" he asked, unable to fully articulate.

"Everyone's fine," replied Harry, accurately interpreting what Remus was trying to say. His friend relaxed into the slightly lumpy mattress. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," said Remus croakily, his voice cracking. Harry walked over to the table and got one of the steaming, soup filled bowls. He sat on a conjured seat next to Remus's bed, propping his friend up with pillows.

"Err..." Harry began, wondering if his friend was strong enough to feed himself, of if Harry should do it. Remus smiled.

"I've got it, Harry. I'm not _that _weak," the werewolf said, reaching his hand out and grasping the bowl. Remus spooned himself some of the soup, blowing on it a bit to cool it down. A few feet away, in Sirius and Harry's bed, Sirius had finally gotten up.

He was at the small table, inhaling his portion of the soup with an appetite even Ron would have been impressed with. "Shou waz'za phhwa nhow?" Sirius asked, his mouth full, a trickle of broth running down his chin.

Harry looked away from the disgusting spectacle and snorted. "What?" he asked. Sirius gulped, a sound audible even from a good ten feet away.

"I said- 'So what's the plan now?'"

Harry frowned. He hadn't really thought of the "new plan." Honestly, he was ready for another break. They only had one Horcrux left, the Diary. They'd gotten really far in their journey to find and destroy all the Horcruxes. They had exactly 15 days until Harry would be taken back to his native time. It didn't seem like much, especially given that the last one was hidden somewhere within Malfoy Manor.

Harry grimaced. Luckily, with Malfoy Sr. taken out of the picture via Azkaban, it wouldn't be too hard. Harry hoped it wouldn't be as hard as Azkaban had been. "Hoped," being the operative term. Honestly, Harry had no idea whatsoever of what the protections might have been around Malfoy Manor.

He knew it was located in western England, around 50 miles from the Muggle city of Preston. He knew it was over-the top (he'd once heard Malfoy Jr. bragging about peacocks and some famous artist). He knew it had wicked dungeons, and the general shape of the grand hall - where Bellatrix had once tortured Hermione.

And... that was pretty much it.

Unluckily, at this point in time, there would still be several people living in Malfoy Manor. Several dangerous people. Narcissa Malfoy (who most likely loathed Harry), Walburga Black (whom Harry had heard had lost Grimmauld Place, to Sirius' delight), and several other notable Voldemort supporters. The only reason these powerful anti-Light wizards and witches weren't imprisoned was lack of evidence.

Yes, there were no longer any free Death Eaters. However, though most Pureblood-maniacs had actively joined Voldemort, around a third rooted for him from the sidelines. It was this third (as he had learned from recent issues of the _Daily Prophet_) who had holed up inside Malfoy Manor for the simple reason that it was one of the few properties which hadn't depended its income solely on Voldemort.

The Malfoys, though Harry was loathe even to _think _it, were rather smart. They'd invested stocks in many popular shops, and gathered interest in the form of hundreds and hundreds of Galleons.

So, cumulatively, Malfoy Manor was guarded by approximately 15 bitter and vengeful Pureblood enthusiasts. Not exactly an exciting thought.

"Uh... Harry?" Sirius prompted, still waiting for his answer. Harry started.

"Huh?" he grunted, sounding the epitome of intelligence.

"He asked what the plan is now," Remus said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know, honestly," responded Harry, and related the information he'd been mulling over the past twenty seconds. Sirius and Remus looked grave, and thoughtful.

"Do you have any idea where exactly the book is, within the Manor?" asked Remus.

"I'd guess in some sort of study area, or even the library, but no- I don't know exactly where it is."

"I wonder if there's a Horcrux-finding spell somewhere..." Sirius muttered thoughtfully. Then, his eyes lit up. "Hey, Harry! Why don't you just use that spell you used back in Gringotts to find it?" Harry smiled wanly.

"I wish, Sirius," said Harry. "But doing that spell used up almost half of my magical energy. I can't cast it more than twice without risking depletion of my core. However, if we're sure it's in one specific room, I can probably do it."

"Are there any other spells like that" Remus inquired. "I'm sure it's not one of a kind..."

"I don't know," said Harry, unsure. "However, if there were any easy ones I bet Dumbledore would have taught them to me in sixth year. It there are any, they're going to be either very complicated, or very magically taxing."

There was no response to this. For a couple of seconds. Then, Remus said,

"We should search, all the same. Maybe there's a Rune structure or an Arithmancy equation that could do it."

Harry nodded. "Okay, Remus, you start looking into that... I don't really know of any other magical communities near here, so it's probably best you Apparate to Knockturn Alley. You'll be more likely to find things there rather than Diagon." Remus nodded and looked like he was going to get up.

"Oi! Not today, you idiot!" Sirius shouted, pointing his spoon at Remus threateningly. "Wait 'till tomorrow so you don't open up those cuts!" Remus grumbled, but complied.

Harry continued as if he hadn't noticed the interruption. "Sirius, you and me are going to research-" (Sirius grimaced) "-about Malfoy Manor itself. It's pretty unlikely we'll be able to find anything about its most important defenses, but maybe we can find blueprints or even a minor defense list." Sirius nodded, not looking exactly excited at the prospect of more research. For "questing," they sure were doing a lot of research.

"We'll start tomorrow," Harry announced.

"You guys can begin today," said Remus quickly. "Don't stay behind on my behalf." Sirius shook his head, immediately dismissing Remus's assurances that he would be all right.

"It's fine, Moony. It'll be like a little break! Plus, it's probably better we don't split up too much." Remus finally agreed, still looking a bit half-hearted.

The day progressed as a well-needed break. To put it bluntly, they did Nothing, with a capital "N." Harry, Remus, and Sirius' day was completed as follows:

1) Wake up.

2) Harry makes food, then discussed future questing with Remus and Sirius.

3) All three go back to sleep.

4) Sirius wakes up, and walks a mile to a nearby stream to get water, returning (and grumbling about its weight) before remembering the Aguamenti charm.

5) Remus and Harry (having woken) laugh at him.

6) The three play various conjured Muggle games, including Charades (in which Sirius soundly beat his adversaries with dramatic movements), Scrabble (in which Remus kicked ass), and Monopoly (in which Harry schemed his way to economic victory.)

7) More sleep.

8) More soup.

9) Remus reads, while Harry (and a flabbergasted Sirius) surf the Internet through the laptop Dumbledore gave them

10) They review plans for the following day, and go asleep for the night.

Harry truly couldn't decide if it was relaxing, or just boring. A little of both, perhaps. After all, it had been a_ long _time since they'd had rest... or at least it felt that way. Put into perspective, it hadn't been that long. It was only the amount of things they'd managed to cram into that space which made it feel lengthy.

The next day, it was Remus who woke first. Testing his muscles, Remus flexed and cracked his neck. He was relieved to find himself free of aches and pains. Conjuring a pair of soft green slippers, Remus swung his legs out of bed, pulling his blanket after him and wrapping it around himself. Not completely sure why he was up, Remus shuffled over to the wood stove, putting wood in it before lighting it.

Remus yawned, taking out a pot to heat canned corn in. Reluctantly drawing his hands from the warm wrapping of the quilt, he pulled open all the cabinets, but found next to nothing. Two more cans of corn, three more of soup, a box of extremely stale Cheerios, and several tins of tuna. Grimacing, Remus took the tuna out and set it on the counter. Tuna and canned corn didn't sound the most appetizing of combinations.

He ventured out of the cabin, still cocooned in his blanket. He thought, unsure of what he was trying to do.

"_Accio Salmon!_" he said, focusing on the stream a little more than 300 yards to the north. He waited for nearly a minute before grimacing in defeat, and walking back inside. He had just begun to wedge the tuna can open when there was a loud, wet, "_THWAP!_"

"_Holy Morgana!_" Remus exclaimed, jumping and causing his left slipper falling off. Pausing only to slip his foot back into it, Remus scurried outside, a bit wary. There, stuck to the window as if trying to force its way inside, was a large silver and pink salmon. The second Remus stepped outside, the fish changed directions, flying towards him at high speed and hitting him in the face with its wriggling tail.

Cussing, Remus grabbed the live fish by its tail. The fish's scales were slimy and wet. Holding it was made none the easier by its wild instinct to survive at any cost. It flapped around in Remus' hands as it tried to free itself. When he finally had a good grip on it, Remus drew his wand.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" he said, and the fish went rigid. Remus was torn. He knew the fish was going to die. He could kill it the Muggle way, with the lone knife located the kitchen drawer. He could use the Killing Curse, or he could let it die from lack of air... (_Air-drowning?_ Remus wondered offhand.)

Not having much time to think, he rushed into the house, set it on the table, turned away, and slashed down with the kitchen knife. The fish went still. Remus didn't look at it.

He had never killed anything before. In fact, when a cockroach (which James had turned out to have an intense phobia of) turned up in his bed - via an extremely ticked off Lily - it had been Remus who'd picked it up and carried it down to the grounds. He'd never so much as swatted a fly before, and now... now he had killed something with a_ knife_!

Remus felt sick. He knew thousands of fish were killed every day by Muggles and Wizards alike, but it still didn't change the fact. Glad Harry and Sirius had not yet woken, Remus pointed his oak wand at the fish again.

"_Terego,_" he murmured. When he turned back, the fish looked almost as if it were sleeping, all signs of blood gone.

The knife had made an uneven slash an closer to the head than had been needed. Remus thanked any and all deities he could think of that he knew so many useless spells.

"_Discedo Ossea. Praeparo_."

In a second, its bones disappeared and it cut itself into three perfectly even slices, excluding organs or the head, which Remus vanished before he could get a good look.

He smiled wanly. It was ironic that he, the werewolf of the group, was by far the most repulsed by blood and gore.

The sound and smell of frying fish woke Harry and Sirius almost simultaneously. In a flash, they were out of their beds and in the kitchen, craning their necks over Remus' shoulder. The werewolf fended them off with his elbows, chuckling at their excited and confounded expressions.

"Seriously, Remus," Sirius said, dumbfounded. "Can you just conjure food from thin air?"

"Of course not. That's one of the exceptions of Gamp's Law of-"

"Yes, yes, we know," Harry interrupted, laughing outright at their discussion as if there were some personal joke attached to Transfiguration Laws, which Remus rather doubted. However, Ron and Hermione were his best friends from his native time. He was sure he had quite a lot of inside jokes.

While Sirius and Harry salivated at the dining table, looking more like starved dogs than men, Remus put the finishing touches on the salmon, placing a dandelion and katniss salad next to it. Sure, it was more of a lunch than a breakfast, but it was still delicious.

"I assume you're feeling better, then, Remus?" Sirius said between large bites of salmon and greens.

"Yeah," replied Remus. "My shoulder tweaks a bit, but Harry really did the trick." Harry smiled, not saying anything.

They finished their meal in relative silence, each of them more concentrated on the food before them than their companions. Finally, when each last morsel of fish and greens had been consumed, they leaned back in their chairs and talked.

"We need to get started on the Malfoy Manor research today," Harry said seriously. He flicked his wand, and smoky numbers appeared before him. "It's 9:18AM right now. Do you guys remember your jobs?" They nodded. "Good."

"Are you and I going to split up when we look for blueprints and stuff?" Sirius asked. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know... we'll most likely be spending time getting information from both books and people. It may be best if we split. And Remus, you're sure you are feeling well enough to go out alone, right?"

Remus sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, sir," he said. Harry pretended to glare at him.

"If any of us gets hurt, or if pains come back-" (Harry looked deliberately at Remus) "-the you Apparate immediately back here, got it?" All members of the party nodded. "Good. No matter what, we meet back here at 3:00PM to check up, okay?"

"Got it."

"Good. See you guys then," and with that, Harry disappeared with the trademark "_POP!_" of Disapparation.

Harry and Sirius, traveling as a group, were the first ones to return to their little cabin. It was 2:54PM, and each of their arms were laden with thick tomes. They dumped the books onto the table with a huff and relaxed in chairs. Eight minutes later, Remus popped in - his arms free from items other than what appeared to be a small scroll and a larger book.

"Did you guys find anything?" Remus asked, sitting stately on his bed. Sirius waved wordlessly towards the gigantic pile of books.

"Most of it's useless, we're pretty sure. History on old families and how they built their houses, ledgers full of accounting information from old families... that sort of thing. A couple of them look promising, though. You?"

Remus looked smug. "I hit gold, boys." Harry and Sirius perked up, new energy arriving with the positive news. Remus walked over to the table and set the scroll down. Curious and excited, Harry picked it up.

Unlike more modern scrolls, this one was crafted of paper-thin, slightly peeling leather. The light tan leather was wrapped around a brittle rod of oak. Careful not to damage the ancient scroll, Harry untied the thin leather bindings, and rolled it open. He stared. The material was covered in minuscule runes, running back and forth in an orderly fashion which looked almost like a design. At the top, there were seven larger runes, some sort of title.

"They're Akkadian runes," explained Remus, "which is pretty rare within itself. Most people in our time use the newer Russian style of runes. These particular ones originate from the Middle East, around the Euphrates river." Sirius looked confused, but the river's name struck a chord within Harry.

"The Euphrates is Turkey, isn't it?" he asked, interested. Geography used to be his best class in primary school.

"It goes through Turkey, Syria, Iraq... those places, along with Egypt and Saudi Arabia, are where the oldest signs of magic are. How did you think the pyramids were built? Some witch in Kuwait is even looking into this tablet she found claiming a wizarding war created the Caspian Sea."

Harry's mind was blown. He'd been hearing about these places all his life! It was beyond strange to only now learn that the wizarding war had, once again, influenced Muggle culture so deeply that they didn't even realize it.

"Anyways," Remus continued, returning to the leather scroll in front of him. "I haven't had much experience with the Akkadian runes, which is why I bought this-" Remus slapped another book down on the table "-to help me translate it."

"So will this spell-" Sirius began, but was soon interrupted.

"Rune structure!" Remus corrected, looking scandalized.

"... okay, _Rune structure_, if I must, help us locate Horcruxes?"

Remus smirked, looking for all the world like the cat who ate the canary. "That's the genius of it! You see, Rune structures are much different than spells because of two major things: the Constant, and the physical aspect. The Constant is, bluntly, the fact that you can leave it alone for years or even centuries, and it would still work. The physical aspect is pretty much that you have to write it with special ink, or carve it with special tool. You can't just cast it in a second; it takes time, concentration, and deliberation."

Harry was the most confused of the lot. Sirius had learned the basis of runes and wards using them when he was young; it had been part of the "Pureblood Lessons," he'd taken. Harry, however, had neither taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, nor really studied them in the future in a context other than the necessary, "and this is how you remove life-threatening Runes"-genre.

Remus sighed, seeing Harry's baffled expression.

"You don't really have to understand that much. What you really need to understand is that, unlike spells - which would cause a ruckus and be easier detected, we can use Runes to figure out where it is."

Harry understood in concept, but was still confused as to why this was preferable to a spell. He opened his mouth to ask, but Sirius seemed to read his mind, and answered.

"Even in most Pureblood homes, Runes are underestimated. Unless a Rune master lives there, which to the extent of my knowledge is not the case at Malfoy Manor, there will be quadruple the wards against spells and few, if any at all, against Runes."

Sirius, Remus, and Harry grinned.

"How long will it take you to figure out the scroll you found?" Sirius asked Remus. Remus looked contemplative, leaning in to get a better look at the small print.

"Well... probably a day or two to translate it into English. Then around two or three days to make paper or stone replicas of the Rune structures so we can actually use it at the Manor," replied Remus after a few seconds.

Harry nodded. "Not too bad, time-wise. Sirius and I found a bunch of books we think will help us. We're planning to split our time between researching physical materials and asking people themselves."

Remus nodded, agreeing with their plan. So, without any further ado, the three went to work.

Exactly six days, two hours, and twenty-seven minutes later, Remus had finally finished. His hand screaming with threats of future Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, he dropped the small tool, placing a completed Rune on top of the others.

It had taken Remus shorter than he'd expected to translate the Runes. Only around two days. However, inscribing the runes onto the cloth as he was doing had taken far longer than he'd expected. More than four days to complete twenty Runes.

Remus examined one of the Runes he'd created. The Rune itself looked fairly simple at first glance; its strong, stiff marks marking it as Russian. Each meticulously created Rune had been carved into a thin slice of wood by a diamond-tipped knife reminiscent of a Muggle X-ACTO knife.

Next to Remus, Harry was hunched over a huge book titled, "_Blood Moste Pure: Archive of the Wizarding Greats and their Prestige_," by Hecate Ichabod. The Man-Who-Conquered's eyes were drooping, eyes staring unfocused on a single line at the top of the page. His hair (shaggy from weeks and weeks of inattention) was messier than usual, his face a bit thinner.

Harry had supplied money to get them food from Diagon Alley, but they had thrown it up. After weeks of minimal food (usually canned) the rich, fatty food which was such a staple in English Wizarding society simply hadn't gone down. They had fruits, grains and vegetables (purchased from the Muggle supermarket three blocks down Charing Cross road) but, to put it bluntly, they were far too busy to eat.

Harry and Sirius had gotten nowhere. Any optimism they'd had about having fifteen days and only one (pre-located) Horcrux to find had been destroyed. It was six days later (with nine days remaining until the term would end, and Harry would be transported back to his home time) and they still had innumerable things to do.

First and foremost, they had to find and destroy Riddle's Diary. This task, of course, included getting around the league of evil Pureblood witches and wizards located at Malfoy Manor. Then, they had to return to Hogwarts and say goodbye to James and Lily.

Well, put like that it didn't seem like much. However, they had unanimously decided to give a minimum of two days for Harry to see James and Lily. It was entirely unfair that Harry had spent so much time with Remus and Sirius, and barely any with James and (especially) Lily.

And then... it would all be over.

It was hard to comprehend for them all. They'd spent that last school year playing pranks, killing Voldemort, discovering secrets, searching for Horcruxes, battling Death Eaters, sneaking into Gringotts _and_ Azkaban, and more. It seemed, well, anticlimactic that Harry was just going to poof away in a little more than a week. However, Harry wasn't complaining. It would be nice to have a break, assuming they managed to get the Diary.

Harry was broken out of his reverie by the sharp pop of Apparition. Harry and Remus jumped.

"Bloody hell, Sirius, don't do that!" Remus exclaimed, hand over his heart. Sirius grinned sideways, setting a couple things down on the table.

"Did you find anything?" Harry asked eagerly, eyes zeroing in on the covered items Sirius had brought.

"I think so," Sirius said, looking smug. "I was in Knockturn Alley, and I just happened to run into our very own Lamia Yaxley." Remus gasped, but Harry was confused.

"Who's Lamia Yaxley? Is she related to the Death Eater?" Sirius grinned.

"I forgot you don't know... Lamia Yaxley is Cyrus Yaxley's - the Death Eater, you know? - older sister. She graduated thee years ago, when we were in fourth year," Sirius said. "Actually, from what I garnered, she's one of the people currently residing at Malfoy Manor."

Harry and Remus gasped. This information was new to both of them.

"She walked into the bar, and I, ever the gentleman, bought her a drink," continued Sirius. Remus crossed his arms.

"Wait a second, hold up. You and Lamia were always at each other's necks back at Hogwarts!" Remus said. "Wait... you used a Glamor?"

"Good guess, Remus old pal, but I used an Illusion Draught instead. It doesn't last as long as Polyjuice, but it did its job. Glamors are always the first thing any self-respecting witch of wizard checks for when they meet a new person."

"Get on with it! What did you learn?"

"Well, firstly, there are exactly sixteen wannabe Death Eaters living in Malfoy Manor, the majority of them wives or children of imprisoned Death Eaters. Secondly, I learned from her complaining that it was hard for them to enter the Manor because unless you have direct permission from the Head of House, Lucius, then you need a Dark Mark."

Harry swore. _What are we going to do now?_ he wondered. _None of us have Dark Marks, of course._ Harry was about to voice this question when Sirius, smugger than ever, continued without a hitch.

"-which is why I, Sirius Black the Awesome, got us an invitation."

"... you _WHAT?_" Both Remus and Harry shouted in synchronization. "You got us invited to Malfoy Manor? On what grounds?" For the first time, Sirius looked a bit uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. Harry's sixth sense went haywire. Whatever this was about, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"_Sirius..._" Remus ground out, having the same instinct as Harry. "_Why are we invited to Malfoy Manor?_"

Sirius gulped, looking cowed, but managed to regain his courage. He straightened his back, but looked away from their eyes.

"We're going on a triple date. Me and Lamia Yaxley, Remus and Pandora Carrow, and Harry and Clarissa Dolohov."

**End of Chapter**

**So? Did I do well on the surprise-front? It the ending was pretty interesting... as usual, please, PLEASE don't be afraid to review! They make my day! **

**I'll try to get another chapter out soon, but midterms are coming up soon - sorry about the well-used excuse. Anyways, I hope you had a good Holiday! **

**~Aquahina**


	30. Synopsis

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

This is a summary of the story so far, in case you've forgotten or missed anything I've written. (I know I forget which story is which on my Story Alerts, and I don't flatter myself into saying that mine would be a stand-out.)

So, really, this isn't a chapter (though I'm releasing a real chapter - Chapter Thirty-One: Blind Date - today as well. This long-ish summary of the story (it is 2,200 words) tells the story of "Just My Luck," by Aquahina, as of now.

If you're lost or simply need reminding of the plot, read on! However, if you remember just feel free to continue onto the next chapter.

**Chapter Thirty: Synopsis**

It has been three years since Voldemort's death during the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry is well, and married Hermione, whereas Ron married Luna Lovegood. Minerva McGonagall calls Harry, who works as Head Auror in the Ministry, into her (the Hogwarts' Headmaster's) office to tell him that Luna has created a spell that can take you back thousands of years in time.

Harry, after unsure contemplation, agrees to travel back in time several thousand years in order to prove Luna's spell. The reason Luna couldn't travel was because people wouldn't take it seriously. After packing and saying goodbye to his wife, Harry leaves for what he thinks will be a trip lasting approximately a week - though his wife seems overly sad for only a week.

Soon after arriving, Harry arrives in the Forest of Dean, Harry opens a letter given to him by Hermione and learns that he is actually in 1977. Hermione had seen how the only thing he was really sad about, and couldn't move on from, was never getting to meet his parents and had volunteered him to go to Hogwarts for his seventh year (which they'd been planning to make up anyways) in order to meet them. Hermione warns Harry not to change anything, as the effects could be cataclysmic.

Harry stays in Diagon Alley, where he buys a phoenix named Izlanzi. Izlanzi, who bonded with Harry, had the ability (all phoenixes have special abilities given solely to them) to shape shift. After getting accepted into Hogwarts by pretending to send a letter via his "parents" and buying a couple things at the Alley, Harry heads to Hogwarts.

Hogwarts is very different in morale, Harry soon learns. Most people aren't too worried about Voldemort yet, as they don't know how much of a threat he can be. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew share his dorm, and he soon becomes their tentative friend. He also gets to know Lily Evans, though to a much lesser extent.

Soon after, they re-face Boggarts in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, as people's fears would have become much more personal and scary. Harry (though he attempts to avoid participating) faces the Boggart, and it becomes the bodies of people he knows (James, Sirius and more included) telling them how disappointed they are with him, and then dying.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who suspect Harry for not being who he says he is, concoct a plan to figure out his true identity. They slip him Veritaserum, the truth potion, and force him to tell who he is. By this, they discover Harry's real name, the fact that he is James' son, that he time traveled, the fact that James marries Lily Evans, and the fact that both James and Lily die.

James and the others are understandably shaken by this, and while they recover, Harry runs off into the Room of Requirement. For two days, Harry camps out there, not talking to anyone other than Izlanzi, his phoenix. Finally, he gets stir-crazy and sneaks out of the castle and into the Forbidden Forest. He runs around with Izlanzi in one of his two Animagus forms (a snow leopard, the other being a phoenix) before returning. Finally, after deciding that the timeline was already changed and he may as well work it for the better, Harry decides to own up to his father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter knowing who he is and meet with them - minus Peter, who Harry has (up to this point) tried to ignore.

Harry tells the Marauders about his life and how he got to 1977 in the Room of Requirement, and brings them into his trunk (which has a compartment doubling as an apartment-sized home) with the password, "Werewolves Rock," which impresses Remus. He lets them get used to the idea that Harry is James' son while he shows them his Animagus forms. On their way out, they suddenly hear a woman's cry from back inside the trunk.

When they return to the trunk compartment, they discover that Hermione Potter is there - having time travelled (though she will automatically return in three hours) to:

A) See Harry, who she -like he- has missed

B) Meet the younger Sirius and Remus,

C) To remind Harry that, no matter where he is or what he's doing, he will automatically be pulled back into the future three days after his time at Hogwarts ends.

D) Also, she gives them a box around the size of a shoebox, which will not open until the "time is right."

Harry puts it into the trunk and forgets about it in just a few days.

After all the truth comes out, Harry is inducted into the Marauders and (after an introductory prank on him by the other Marauders, minus Peter Pettigrew, who was thrown out without further notice) they plan a master prank. Said master prank involves switching the bodies and minds of all students and faculty randomly, with the only predestined soul/body combos being them as the Headmaster other major teachers.)

When it comes to fruition, (Harry as Dumbledore, James as McGonagall, Sirius as Odolphus - the Defense teacher, and Remus as Sprout) they have their fun.

However, in the middle of the prank, Voldemort and his Death Eater arrive at Hogwarts for an attack, and believe that Harry is Dumbledore. (The real Dumbledore being in the body of a first year girl.) After general chaos, Harry challenges Voldemort to a formal wizard's duel, which means that all other fighting must stop until one of their deaths.

They fight for near an hour, using amazing spells which change the weather, bring weapons up from the earth, and conjure 50-foot lions of fire, but they are at a stalemate. Harry, unused to the old body of Dumbledore, cannot use his normal fighting style - which uses a lot of dodging. And Voldemort's power is running out. When Voldemort summons a huge cobra, Harry convinces it in Parseltongue to attack Voldemort instead. While this is happening, Harry gets an idea and summons Nagini, who had not yet met Voldemort and was being kept in Care of Magical Creatures Class.

Nagini slithers up through the grass where Voldemort doesn't see and distracts him for long enough to have Harry hit Voldemort with a Killing Curse.

Voldemort's physical body is dead, but the Horcuxes (minus Nagini and Harry, who are not yet Horcruxes) are still alive.

So, with the permission of Dumbledore, Harry decides to go on his second Horcrux Hunt. He requests that James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily be allowed to come with him. Dumbledore shoots down Lily, but allows the other to go because Lily Evans didn't do any fighting - instead helping younger students get into the castle. James decides to stay with her, as they had only just begun dating and he didn't want that to end.

Sad but understanding his father's reasons, Harry sets out with Remus and Sirius to find and destroy the Horcruxes. First, they go down into the Chamber of Secrets to coat weapons with Basilisk venom (procured upon their combined effort killing the snake).

From there, they continue onto the Horcrux hunt, first destroying the Diadem (located in the Room of Requirements) before leaving Hogwarts.

The first thing they run into is a small Wizarding town, on their way to get the Ring. There, they become trapped by an ancient curse. Managing to break it, they make their way to the Gaunt's house in Little Hangleton. After breaking many curses protecting it, Harry, Sirius, and Remus sneak in and take the ring, destroying it soon after - though Remus gets a minor injury.

Exhausted from their battle for their first Horcrux, they collapse beside the destroyed house. There, a Muggle family (distressed upon finding them hurt and tired) takes them back to the city of Stockport - near Manchester.

After Apparating away from the hotel where the Muggles were staying and back to London (where they rent a non-magical hotel room nearby to stay away from the public eye), they make preparations for Remus' looming transformation into a werewolf. Harry makes Wolfsbane potion in a shorter time than regularly, as he'd procured the pre-prepared ingredients from Dumbledore before leaving Hogwarts.

After Remus' transformation (which occurs in a remote forest which they Apparate to) they realize that they need information from Bellatrix Lestrange on how to break into her vault. Without the hairs to Polyjuice into, Sirius tells them of an old Pureblood tradition of having other access points to get into your vault.

Deciding that is the best option they have, they prepare to break into Azkaban and use Veritaserum to learn from Bellatrix how you can get in. After several consecutive days of preparing, assigning jobs, memorizing the blueprints, and generally reading up on Azkaban, they depart to Denmark, the closest landmass to Azkaban.

Sirius and Harry, who will fly in through Harry's (aerial) Animagus form in addition to Izlanzi, land on the rocky beach surrounding the fortress. Remus, disguised as a man visiting his incarcerated cousin, goes in "legally."

Managing to sneak in, Sirius and Harry force the truth potion onto Bellatrix and retrieve the information of where the banking paperwork is held.

On their way out, they find Remus, who is having trouble with his "cousin," as his cousin isn't as crazy as they'd hoped, and realized that Remus was not indeed related to him. Nonetheless, they manage to sneak out on time and according to plan.

Once again meeting up, they go to the place Bellatrix Lestrange specified as having their banking papers (a Lestrange summer home in the French city of Calais). They retrieve them and subsequently plot to enter through the passageway - which opens near the Leaky Cauldron.

The trio (Version 2.0) successfully retrieves Hufflepuff's Cup from the Lestrange vault, Harry using Dark magic to differentiate it from the other treasure in the vault. However, they triggered the defense charms, causing them painful burns as the multiplying treasure covered them. Escaping rampant Goblins (who were alerted by the traps going off), Harry, Sirius, and Remus ran out the passage way on pure adrenaline.

However, the action-y and stressful day didn't end there. Upon exiting, they find themselves surrounded by the only remaining (non-imprisoned) Death Eaters (numbering four), including one high powered one they didn't recognize behind the cloak. After briefly battling (and winning over the three lower level ones), the unnamed Death Eater pulled back his cloak to reveal the last person they'd expected to be so Dark or high powered: Peter Pettigrew.

Peter explains how he hadn't been pro-Voldemort until Harry's actions (telling the Marauders what he did in the future, though Peter didn't know this) and James, Sirius and Remus' abandonment had caused him to turn to Voldemort. Learning from his Death Eaters and stocking up on Dark spells, he'd been plotting revenge.

Still covered in burns and tired, neither of the three could fight as well as usual - though (because the fight took place outside the Leaky Cauldron, on the Muggle side) Aurors soon arrived. But by the time they'd arrived, both Sirius and Remus were injured and Harry was chased by a earthquake-like fissure chasing after him.

Harry, after after trying (and failing) to dispel the fissure, runs away before doubling back and tackling Peter Pettigrew, throwing himself over the former Marauder. Peter is swallowed by the deep crevice, and since he's no longer channeling magic into it, it stops. Harry, seeing that his enemy is still alive but crushed in the concrete Muggle street, does a mercy killing - using _Avada Kedavra. _

The Aurors _Oblivated _(i.e; erased the memory of) all Muggles in the area.

Harry, Sirius, and Remus, in shock, Apparated to the swampy area outside the Burrow. Unconscious for nearly 24 hours, they caught pneumonia and needed Molly Weasley's help to cure that as well as their burns from Gringotts. Harry gets her attention and they rest at the Burrow.

Sirius and Remus, meanwhile, have a heart-to-heart about Peter Pettigrew. Finally, they decide that they need to tell James (who doesn't know of his friend's death) how Peter died in person. So they use the Weasley's Floo system to talk to James (and Lily) and relate the news.

James, who told Lily how Harry was her future son, grieves while Harry and Lily talk - though he, Sirius, and Remus had to leave soon.

Mostly recovered, Harry, Sirius, and Remus leave the Burrow and head to Basildon, the town closest to the cave where Tom Riddle hid Slytherin's Locket. They cautiously enter the cave, but are stuck at the boat. In lieu of their inability to get all three to the island, they decide to battle the Inferi and get rid of them before they advance to the island.

After managing to kill all Inferi located in the lake, they conjure a boat and cross. After debate, they decide that Sirius will be the one to take the potion as he has suffered the least horrors in his life (Harry with Voldemort, and Remus with being a werewolf.) He is about to drink it when the idea of using an Inferi as the drinker, instead of an actual human.

They try this and it succeeds. They put the Inferi at rest, burying it, before walking out of the cave (with the locket) and later destroy it.

After resting in an abandoned log cabin in Northern England for days and figuring out their next move (their first priority being infiltrating Malfoy Manor to retrieve the final Horcrux: Tom Riddle's Diary) Sirius comes upon a stroke of luck. When he is collecting information on the Malfoys and their house in general in a shady Knockturn Alley bar, he runs into an old Hogwarts enemy - Lamia Yaxley.

Sirius, disguised under a charm which didn't let people connect his identity with his looks, procures a triple date at Malfoy Manor itself; Sirius with Lamia Yaxley, Remus with Pandora Carrow and Harry with Clarissa Dolohov.

To be continued in Chapter Thirty-One: Blind Date

**END OF "CHAPTER"**

_Please tell me if this was needed, or if I should/shouldn't delete this chapter. I feel it kinda messes up the story mojo, but I like them when I've seen these reprise chapters in other fictions. _

_As always, review are very much appreciated. _

~Aquahina


	31. Blind Date

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. _

_Also, I was totally overwhelmed by the response to that last chapter! I got many more reviews than I'd expected! Thank you very much! Well, here you go! I can hardly believe this story has thirty chapters! Haha, I thought it would have around 18 when I started. _

_Without any further ado, Chapter Thirty!_

_**Chapter Thirty: Blind Date**_

Harry stared at the thoroughly cowed Sirius. Next to Harry, Remus looked much the same.

"... a triple date?" Remus said softly. Somehow, this seemed to have more effect on Sirius than yelling. "A_ TRIPLE DATE!_"

"Y-yeah, a t-t-triple date..." Sirius agreed, shifting in his place.

"And where exactly did _you_ get than genius idea, _Black!_" Remus continued, shouting now. "Did you ever stop to consider that, not only will we have limited chances to escape from the Pureblood supremacist girlfriends you set us up with in order to look for the Diary, but Harry is _married,_ we're notorious criminals in the Death Eater world, _and-" _Remus's ranting was cut off by Sirius.

"Well, at least I got something done!" he yelled, angry now. "At least I'm trying to get us into Malfoy Manor before Harry pops back to the future!"

Harry, who had not yet uttered a word in this argument, looked pensive.

"Are you insinuating that-" Remus began, but he was cut off again, this time by Harry.

"Guys! We need to stop arguing now! Sirius - though I may detest the very idea of being within 100 yards of Clarissa Dolohov-" (Sirius winced) "-I am willing to admit that you had some quick thinking."

Remus looked outraged. Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. Harry took in a deep, calming breath and attempted to look unruffled by this new addition to their plans.

"So when is this triple date?" Harry asked.

"The two days from now," said Sirius. Harry considered while Remus fumed.

"Okay then," said Harry. "Change of plans. Remus- you finished those Rune structures, right?" Remus nodded. "Good. We'll need them. For now, we need to plan how we're going to get away from them so we can look for the Diary."

"You did manage to set the date up at Malfoy Manor, right Sirius?" Remus spit out, looking for all the world a mother dragon who'd discovered a missing egg.

"Yeah, I did," Sirius replied a bit defensively. "I mentioned some things about how I was disgusted with the treatment of Death Eater affiliates, and said that we should go somewhere non-public."

Remus grumbled, unhappy that he'd been upped.

"Fine, let's get working on our disguises, and strategies then," Remus said, still looking at Sirius distastefully. Sirius wisely chose not to argue.

_**46 HOURS LATER**_

The cabin was bustling. Harry stood at the cracked mirror attempting to straighten the top of his perpetually crooked dress robes, while Remus ran back and forth from the table to his bed and back - attempting to ready three things at once.

Sirius, unusually, was by far the calmest of three. He'd finished dressing a half hour ago, and was sitting at the table, placing various materials into piles.

"Sirius! Help me with this?" Harry finally begged. Sirius was the expert on all things to do with formal wizarding wear, having been to a (to quote Sirius) "horrifyingly high number" of auctions, balls, and various black-tie events with his parents.

Sirius stacked one last Rune before scraping his chair back on the floor and walking over to Harry. He tutted at the mess Harry had made of the tie and pulled it off, to Harry's dismay.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed. "I've been working on that for-" but he stopped talking as Sirius's fingers began to form the silk cloth into something far more tie-like. In less than a minute, Sirius slipped it over Harry's head, tightening it. Harry peered into the mirror and whistled.

He looked the epitome of class.

Harry was wearing dress robes, dredged from the bottom of his trunk. He owned four pairs of dress robes, total. (A convenient turn of luck.) One was a basic, black and white robe with silver cuff links. Harry was wearing this one, as it was his favorite.

Sirius was wearing the same style of dress robes as Harry, albeit scarlet and dark grey. His hair had been cut by Remus, who had trimmed off several months worth of shaggy black hair.

Remus was wearing Harry's fanciest pair of dress robes. They were midnight blue, with embroidered silver sleeves and hem. He, too, had cut his hair - chopping off the bits reaching down the nape of his neck for a more clean-cut look. Remus didn't look particularly happy with his robes, and kept pulling at the wide sleeves.

They made quite the elaborate trio.

Remus had recessed into the deepest parts of his bookworm status to find and buy the potions they'd needed for their transformation. Though their looks were (very nearly) the same, an illusion had been placed in a ten foot radius around them. The illusion, which translated roughly from Portuguese as the Disregarding Draft, made people around them not connect their faces with names or reputations.

This was good, Remus had explained, because it was one of the many forgotten potions and enchantments in the wizarding world. Malfoy Manor almost surely had some sort of screening process for people who could visit, and they'd be checking for things like Glamour Charms and Polyjuice Potion; the mainstream stuff.

Harry slipped a few items up his sleeve, where they had painstakingly sewn pockets the day before. His real wand, attached to his forearm with a leather holster, was out of sight. In his hand he carried one of his two extra wands, a 13-inch dragon heart-string and Willow.

"Ready?" he asked nervously, turning to look at his companions.

Sirius straightened up, having finished his preparations. Remus was already by the door. "Ready," they said in unison. Harry nodded, and with a resounding "crack," they vanished.

Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black popped into existence approximately 20 yards from the large, imposing gates of Malfoy Manor.

Malfoy Manor was beautiful, no doubt about it. Constructed similarly to the Americans' White House in Washington D.C, it sprawled over huge grounds - Ionic pillars holding up a huge terrace in front. However, unlike the White House, Malfoy Manor (though nearly completely white) was shrouded in shadows by seven hulking willow trees places in a semi-circle around the grounds.

The Willow trees, Harry knew from his recent research of the Malfoys, represented the seven Ancient and Noble Houses. Though the seven didn't formally include the Malfoys (they were the Blacks, Prewetts, Peverells, Warringtons, Reeves, Rosiers, and the Vaiseys), ever since the Reeves family bloodline had ended, the Malfoys had instated themselves as one of the seven.

It wasn't really important, but Harry had thought it funny exactly how far their self entitlement had gone.

Surrounding the Manor, there was a high, perfectly manicured hedge around 15 feet tall. Harry, Remus, and Sirius hesitated before walking up to the ornate, black iron gate. Even the gate was at least 20 feet tall.

Sirius stepped forward, and put his hand onto the gate. As the only true Pureblood of the three, he was the one whose hand needed to be pricked for blood type. A tiny spot of scarlet appeared on his Sirius' hand before he pulled it away. For a second, the black gate remained. Harry held his breath...

But then, after what seemed an age, the black metal melted to the sides of the gate, forming two seven-foot rearing metal snakes. Now only around 25 yards of evenly cut (not to mention unseasonably green) grass and a black walkway was all that separated them from the Manor itself.

Flashy animals strutted around the grounds, all of them looking well nourished and acting as if they were the owners. Harry stared. There, sure enough, was a large male peacock - its tall fan of feathers outstretched. He shook his head, snorting under his breath.

"Don't forget your identities," Remus reminded in a hushed whisper as they strode over the black marble walkway towards the double doors.

"Got it," Harry replied out of the corner of his mouth, pulling himself out of his amused daze.

They walked up the curved white stairs to the doors of Malfoy Manor. Harry thought it ironic that one of the most evil places in Britain was colored such a stark white. He'd expected it to be made of black obsidian, or something equally as imposing.

This time it was Remus who stepped forward and knocked, using the large silver door knocker. The door knocker clanged three times, the sounds echoing menacingly around the mostly silent grounds. Remus stepped back nervously, straightening his dress robes.

They waited for thirty seconds before the door was opened by some unseen force. (Harry suspected House Elves.)

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Mr. Randall!" The speaker said in a rather squeaky voice.

Harry looked up from the white stone steps. The speaker was, he presumed, Lamia Yaxley. Lamia (he got mixed up when he mentally just called her, 'Yaxley') was the only other witch or wizard he'd met with red hair other than the Weasleys. She was dark skinned and tall, a green dress falling down to her ankles.

Philip Randall, Sirius' alias, looked pleased to see her. "And you as well, Miss Yaxley," he responded flirtily, bowling down. Lamia, however, didn't seem to be particularly impressed. Yet Sirius seemed convinced not to loose any steam. "May I introduce you to my esteemed companions, Mr. Lucifer Devlin-" (Sirius gestured towards Remus, who was going by this name) "-and Mr. Nathaniel Kane."

Harry, who was going by Nathaniel Kane, bowed as well.

"Very nice to meet you, Mr. Devlin, Mr. Kane," she said, curtsying in a more reserved manner. "May I welcome you into the Manor?"

"We would be delighted, Lamia," Sirius said, taking the lead, as she was his "date." Harry and Remus followed the couple through the double doors and into a huge hall with an ornate, gilded ceiling.

"Could you please wait here while I fetch Pandora and Clarissa?" Lamia Yaxley asked rhetorically.

"We anxiously await your return," said Sirius formally, inclining his head in her direction.

"Oh, yes," she said, seeming to have remembered something. "I'm sorry, but this is simple precaution - we must have you three checked for any weapons or such. Did you know several people have already tried to forcibly enter the Manor?" Lamia shook her head disdainfully. "Of course, only one got by Echidna **(1)**, and even he was halted by the wards - but it was quite the scare."

She clapped her hands daintily. A man clad in a navy blue and green uniform appeared from another room almost immediately.

"Silas, inspect them," she ordered testily. The man nodded, not saying anything, and approached their group. Harry's heart began to beat a bit faster as he stepped first towards Harry.

Without any words of apology nor warning, the man pulled off Harry's dress coat and pulled out its pockets. Harry (who by this time was hoping beyond hope that he didn't discover the pockets hidden within the wide sleeves) stood stock still. Twenty seconds later, the coat jacket was thrown upon the floor. Luckily, the pockets hadn't been uncovered.

Next, the man apparently named "Silas," patted Harry down, presumably searching for an extra wand or dangerous artifact. Finding nothing of interest, he finally withdrew a wand and pointed it as Harry.

Harry panicked. What was the man doing? Had he discovered something, and was cursing him? What if he was going to do a charm that undid their potion, currently making their faces unrecognizable to anyone who viewed them?

_What would a dark, pampered, Slytherin, Pureblood do?_

"How dare you point that wand at me?" Harry exploded, face darkening. "I expect to be treated with deference in the house of Malfoy!" Silas literally dropped his wand in surprise.

He glared at Harry with such contempt that he might have been a small, annoying bug on the tip of his boot. Harry, feeling bad but not allowed to show it, looked back with the same expression.

"As you wish, _my lord,_" Silas replied, spitting the last two words out. Harry couldn't believe it had worked!

"And I expect my compatriots to be treated with the same respect, if you please," he added in a slightly less angry tone. Silas gave him a surprised, calculating look Harry was unable to get a read on before continuing onto Sirius and Remus.

By the end of their check, they had been lucky. Remus' extra wand had been uncovered (and talked off under pretenses of 'what proper Pureblood doesn't have one?') but other than that, their artillery was fully intact.

For the first time since Sirius had come back to their modest little cabin announcing their triple (and for Remus and Harry's part, blind) date - Harry was appreciative of their good fortune.

Silas led Harry, Sirius, and Remus down the end of the hall and through several doors. Every room and corridor looked the same to Harry, though he tried to remember where he'd been led. Each room was colored with dark color schemes (a contrast to the white outside), and decorated with stately portraits and dated suits of armor.

They passed a total of three people, none of whom Harry recognized. Though judging by an intake of breath by Sirius, his friend did.

Finally, they reached a large dining room with the largest chandelier Harry had ever seen hanging over it. Wax drippings hung off the six-foot-diameter light fixture in clumps, and Harry would have stared longer were it not for the occupants of the room.

"You took long enough, Silas!" Lamia sneered at the servant with disdain as they entered. Then, her expression morphed. "Ahh! Mr. Randall, Mr. Devlin, and Mr. Kane. Nice to see you have finally made your way here. May I introduce you to your dates?"

She stepped aside to reveal two other women around her age. Lamia Yaxley took one of the girls by the arm and pulled her forward. "This is Pandora Carrow, your date for the night Mr. Devlin."

Remus looked at his date a bit apprehensively. Though equally pretty as Lamia, Pandora too had a cruel air about her. As short as Lamia was tall, Pandora had stick-straight black hair, deathly pale skin, and a small birthmark showing on her shoulder.

Pandora curtsied, and Remus bowed deeply. "It is nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Carrow," he greeted. Pandora, smiled wanly.

"Call me Pandora," she instructed, seemingly more out of practice than warmth. Remus nodded and walked to he side.

"And this is Clarissa Dolohov," Lamia said, finishing her introductions. Harry stepped forward to meet his date. Clarissa looked similar to Pandora, though she was a bit taller and was wearing a deep red dress. Harry bowed for what felt like the millionth time that day.

"It is a pleasure, Miss Dolohov," Harry said, lightly kissing the back of her hand. She pursed her lips at him (a motion which seemed far too old for her appearance) and didn't suggest he call her by anything but her surname. Harry gulped audibly.

"Shall we dine, then?" Lamia suggested after a second of awkward silence.

"Excellent idea, I am very hungry," Sirius said cheerily, though no one else seemed to share his happy sentiments. For the first time, Harry noticed the food lying on the circular dining table in the center of the room. All the food was exceedingly rich; dark meats, Yorkshire puddings, buttered breads, and more.

Harry silently willed his stomach not to growl, which he suspected would have gotten him tossed out by the scruff of his dress robes. To his canned soup-hardened appetite, this was a feast for the ages.

The six adults sat down, dates at their sides.

Again, silence swept the room. Harry really had no idea how to begin conversation with a girl he'd never as much as said a word to. All of a sudden, Harry felt exceedingly guilty for this "date," seeing he was married. It may not have been to his wishes (in fact, this was about the last place he wanted to be at the moment) but it was still a point of shame.

"I was very impressed by the wildlife I saw on the grounds coming in," Remus said, spearing a piece of roast beef. "Were you responsible for their upbringing?"

Remus' date, Pandora, answered. "The peacocks belong to the Malfoys, though the rest were collected from the homes of all people staying here."

"Are any from your family?" Remus asked again, trying to hold onto the dying and unimportant conversation. "I had a baby Gorgon growing up in Wales."

"Yes, my family was responsible for the Kite Dragon," Pandora responded. "Clarissa's family had Gorgons growing up, though, didn't you Clarissa?"

Harry's date nodded sullenly. "We did." It seemed as if those two words pained her. "Longsword and Sabre were their names."

"Interesting!" Harry said, unable to think of stately way to say, 'cool!' or 'awesome!' even though he was rather put off by his date having two women with snake-hair as childhood pets.

The luncheon conversation was the dullest Harry had ever encountered in all his years of life. It encompassed the bores of living in Malfoy Manor, their disappointment that Voldemort hadn't been able to take over, and their anger at the "Mudblood plebeian masses," who disliked most Purebloods at this time.

Exactly 47 minutes later (Harry was counting minute by excruciating minute) they had finished all three courses. Harry gave Sirius a significant look. This was where their plan was to be put into action.

"Excuse me, Lamia," Sirius said quietly, "but might you direct me to your toilet?"

Using the bathroom was quite possibly the oldest excuse to get away in the history of time, but it was effective.

"Of course, Philip," she answered. "You need only go down this hallway, then take a right into the room with the green door."

"I shall return promptly," Sirius said before hurrying off. Harry chanced a small smile.

Phase One had started.

Harry took in a deep breath, looking around. Nobody other than he, Remus, Lamia, Pandora, and Clarissa was in the Dining room. Slipping his hand under the table as if to straighten the napkin on his lap, Harry slid the wand out from the magically concealed holster on his arm.

"_Imperio!_" he whispered, pointing the wand under the table at his date, Clarissa. For a second, he felt bad. This was pretty much the worst date in history, for both of them. And now to top it off, he was using an Unforgivable Curse on her.

Clarissa's stature barely changed. Neither Lamia nor Pandora seemed to notice anything.

_Keep acting as you have, _Harry silently ordered. Clarissa's face returned to its annoyed and bored expression. Harry glanced sideways at Remus, who had just done the same thing to Pandora Carrow. Remus nodded at him, communicating success on his part.

Harry gave another silent command to his "date." She straightened, looking towards Lamia, who the other two women seemed to regard as a sort of leader.

"Lamia, could you perhaps let Nathanial and I take a walk alone around the Manor? I thought he might enjoy the Renaissance tapestries in the Drawing room, seeing as he mentioned having similar ones in his own house growing up."

Lamia looked understandably startled by this turn of events. As the only un-Imperiused female in the room, she found it unusual that Clarissa - who hadn't expressed any interest whatsoever in Harry - was suddenly asking to go off alone with him. Lamia looked at Clarissa significantly, and Harry's previous order to "act as normal," must have applied here as well because she nodded and returned the meaning-laden look.

"Very well, if you must. I'll explain to Philip when he returns from the toilet," agreed Lamia Yaxley.

Harry offered his arm to his date, which she took daintily. They walked down an exiting hallway to the right before Harry pulled his arm from hers as if it had left a burn. Now, he didn't bother to make his commands silent.

"Stay here, and out of sight," he ordered. "If someone finds you, tell them that we got split up when I stopped to look at a sculpture."

She nodded without another word and ducked behind a staircase. Harry withdrew his wand from where he'd hidden it under his sleeve and tapped his head, casting a Disillusionment charm. The strange egg-cracking sensation trickled down his spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Harry felt inside his pocket, where the thin Rune structures Remus had created were sitting. Each of them had been supplied with an equal amount, though the number wasn't exactly as high as Harry would have liked. Walking silently on the balls of his feet, Harry slipped from room to room, looking for a place which looked like it could house the Diary.

Finally, Harry reached a small library. They'd passed a gigantic one on their way to the Dining room, but this one was different. Much smaller, for one, as well as dimly lit. Only a few candles illuminated the shadowy room. Harry took out one of the Runes and placed it in the doorway. As soon as it hit the ground, the Rune structure's carefully carved lines lit up with an unearthly blue light. It flashed blindingly for a millisecond before going out completely. Harry's heart fell. The Horcrux wasn't in this room.

Flicking his wand, Harry banished the Rune before continuing onto the next room.

Harry had tried three more rooms, with the same unlucky results. Harry was getting nervous. He hadn't dared to consider the prospect that the Diary could be kept out of Malfoy Manor. Plus, he'd already nearly gotten caught twice - once by an nameless, matronly woman with a stiff upper lip, and once by a pouting 12-year-old boy, who should have been a second year in Hogwarts.

Slipping around a corner, Harry snuck to the next door. He felt the hand, expecting it to be unlocked, as all other doors had been in the Manor so far. To his surprise, it was firmly locked. Harry's brows raised.

"_Alohomora,_" he whispered. He tried the door again, but to no avail. He hadn't really expected the simplistic spell to work, anyways. Harry thought for a while. In all honesty, he didn't know any better unlocking charms. _Alohomora_ had always worked for him. Then, an idea struck him. Conjuring a simple bobby pin, Harry stuck the end into the lock, lowering his ear to it as George had taught him, post-War. It rattled around, but he didn't hear what he was waiting for. Finally, after nearly a minute of rattling, he heard a muted, "_click!_"

Harry grinned. The Malfoys hadn't dreamed someone would use Muggle methods to infiltrate their house.

The door creaked open. Harry's heart was pounding. If somebody was in there, there was no chance he'd be able to pass this off as him getting lost, or as the door just coming open by itself. Harry held his breath, peering around the side of the mahogany door. He released it in a puff of hot breath. The room was empty.

The room itself seemed to be a well-used, but tidy, office. The high walls were covered in ancient books, each of them dusty. The desk, too, was covered in a thin film of dust, as was the floor and the leather chair behind it. Harry flicked his wand, and the lamps at the end of the room. The office became bathed with light. Harry reevaluated his opinions about the room. The office _used_ to be well-used. Now, it didn't seem like anyone had been here in months.

Harry straightened up from his crunched position, and picked the Rune structure out of his pocket. He threw it upon the ground, and the blue light encompassed the room again. The light extinguished. Harry's heart sank. The Horcrux wasn't in this room either. Harry was about to rip it off the floor, effectively ending the magic, when a thin beam of light flew from the center of the Rune.

Harry fell backwards with a low cry, a chair tipping over as he did so. He winced as it fell, creating a crashing sound.

Holding back his excitement, Harry charmed the doorway with the_ Muffliato_ spell and pulled the chair back into place before allowing himself to look back at the Rune. Harry grinned hugely. The beam of light, colored the same cobalt blue, was heading in a paper-thin line of light towards a bookshelf. Nearly tripping over his own feet in his enthusiasm to find the Diary, Harry ran over to it and began combing the bookshelf with his eyes. After a minute, though, he had found nothing. He frowned.

_The Rune is telling me it should be right here, _he thought, confused. _But all there is is this book on how to properly condition your children to follow your commands! _Harry looked again, but no no avail. The Diary just didn't seem to be there.

Harry was about to start taking the books off the shelves when he was struck with an idea. Stepping back from the bookshelf, Harry pointed his wand at it. "_Cella Revelio!_" he said, not bothering to lower his voice. The _Muffliato_ was hiding it, anyways.

A doorway, hidden completely by the bookshelves, swung open. Harry smiled, pulling it further agape. Behind the hidden door was a small room, about the size of your average Muggle bathroom.

In the center there was what seemed to be a crystal ball. Harry pulled out his wand, and cast several spells - trying to figure out if it was harmful. However, it didn't seem to have evil intentions. Finally, hesitantly, Harry put his hand onto it, expecting the worst. Harry's stomach jerked. He was being pulled up, like from a vacuum cleaner! Barely managing not to yell, Harry was haphazardly tossed through the ceiling, bumping and bruising against the rough brick walls. They went on, and on, and on, flying upwards for what seemed like years but was only really about a minute.

Finally, the hole opened up into the evening sky. The spell released Harry with a loud sound like a suction cup being released, and he flew through the air, attempting to stop his fall onto the rooftop to no avail. Harry crashed down onto it with a thump. He groaned, rolling onto his back. Again, the chimney-like creation which had brought him from the office produced the suction cup sound, and Harry's wand fell to the ground, clattering disproportionately. The air around it shivered, and a spark emitted from it. Harry, not wanting his wand to cast any more spells by accident, picked it up.

For the first time, Harry looked around. He was in a black marble courtyard. The courtyard was in a state of disrepair, the marble cracked and deadened, brown flowers lining the pathway. There were walls on the sides of the room, disallowing nearly all views off the top of the Manor.

Suddenly, Harry had a feeling of deja vu so strong he was very nearly knocked off his feet. _How could I have been here before? I've never even been to Malfoy Manor before today.._ Harry contemplated, his heart (and leg) still pounding from the strange mode of transportation. Harry wracked his mind, trying to remember... he _knew _he could figure it out...

Then suddenly, Harry remembered. His face whitened. He had dreamed of this place. Months ago. It had been the day the Marauders officially instigated him as one of their own - the true fourth Marauder. The abandoned, chipped benches... the inky columns holding up the decrepit walls... everything!

Harry gulped. It had been years since he'd had a prophesying dream. Then again... he'd had this when Voldemort was still alive. Perhaps Voldemort had been thinking about this courtyard? Perhaps he'd been here! Mind going back to the mission at hand, Harry pulled out his very last Rune structure. Hoping beyond hope that this would work, he set it on the ground. Again, the light flashed, and again the thin beam of blue light led into the darkness.

Lighting the tip of his wand with the _Lumos_ charm, Harry walked into the darkness. Still, everything mirrored his dream. He climbed a short staircase, the hallway seeming longer than it actually was. Finally, he reached... what had he reached?

Harry approached it closer. It was a pedestal. Ancient and decrepit, the pedestal sat in the center of the room. The blue light led directly into the center of it. There, in the center, was Tom Riddle's Diary. The last Horcrux. It was within reach!

Harry very nearly grabbed it the moment he saw it and ran from the (frankly, _creepy_) place, but managed to practice restraint. All other Horcruxes had had difficult protection measures.

He pulled his wand from his jeans pocket (front pocket, mind you. He'd never quite been able to forget Alastor Moody's warning...) and pointed it at the dais. He flicked it several times, muttering Latin under his breath. No protective enchantments appeared. Harry frowned. There had to be some sort of other protection. He tried three more spells, but to no avail. The lack of protection was just making him more and more cagey.

After nearly two minutes of casting, without any results telling him there were wards spells around the Diary, Harry was forced to give up. He simply did not have any more revealing spells. The Man-Who-Conquered gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He stared at it for a second, and wondered for the first time what would happen to his body should he die in this time. Would it pop back into his native decade? Or would it stay here in 1978? He brushed these thoughts out of his mind, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

_You know what? _Harry thought. _To hell with it! _

Reaching out his hand, Harry snatched the Diary off the marble dais. Nothing happened. No smiting occurred, and to the extent of Harry's knowledge, he was still in the world of the living. He was halfway to a grin when a spell hit him mid-back.

Before he could even comprehend what had happened, Harry's world turned to black.

**END OF CHAPTER**

_Wow - I'm really wrapping it up here! I expect to have three more chapter total, and I'm trying to keep it under 200,000 words. I know long stories are daunting for some people, and there seems to be a huge difference between the 100,000-word-range, and the 200,000-word range. _

_After all, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," didn't even have 200,000 words! (Scary, if you think about it. The Goblet of Fire had 190,637 words.) _

_As always, review are very much appreciated! If nothing more, at least tell me if I should delete my last "synopsis" chapter or not. _

_~Aquahina_


	32. Capture

Disclaimer:I claim no (legal) ownership over the Harry Potter franchise... :(

**A quick warning -** this chapter is more violent and psychologically scary than most of my other chapters. Probably more an "M" rating, for torture, violence, and death.

Well, I really hope you guys are enjoying the last few chapters of "Just My Luck!" I expect there to be three more chapters (this one included,) and an epilogue to tell what happens once Harry is thrown back into the future and what awaits him there. Without further ado - I really dislike it when authors have "conversations" with people as part of their opening - here is chapter thirty-two.

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Capture**

Harry hurt. His whole body hurt, in fact. Right down to his frozen toes and stiff joints. Attempting to ignore this pain for a moment, he summoned up his strength and turned over from where he'd been lying face-down on what seemed to be an icy concrete slab. Harry groaned as he tried to figure out where he was, and how he'd gotten there.

That last thing he remembered, he'd had the very last Horcrux in his hand – so very close to destroying it and being through with Voldemort once and for all! – when he'd been knocked out. He sat up quickly, and then cursed loudly as the pain in his head went up exponentially.

Holding his head between his hands, Harry carefully opened his eyes. They were extremely sensitive to light, as usual, and he was glad to find the room he was in only dimly lit. He squinted, still unable to decipher exactly where he was. Slowly, his slightly unfocused green eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

Harry was in a dungeon, to put it lightly. Around the room hung an overlying feeling of fear and gloom, saturating the room. The physical temperature was extremely cold; probably only a few degrees above freezing. Harry stood up slowly, trying not to invoke any of the pain which seemed to occur when he made fast movements, and walked to where the door was.

As Harry got closer, however, he discovered something that chilled him further to the bone than even the cold atmosphere of the room- no, dungeon, had. The "door," was a prison cell door; its thick metal bars attached sturdily to the floor and ceiling. Purely out of instinct, Harry reached out for the bars, half hoping they would just open. But alas, even as Harry pulled on them as hard as he could, they stayed firm.

He felt up the sides of his body and his arms. His stomach dropped further still. They had found and confiscated the wand he'd kept hidden up his sleeve. The wand he'd had since his eleventh birthday. The other magical items he'd stowed into hidden compartments in his robe had also mysteriously vanished and were nowhere to be found.

Harry wrapped his feeble dress robes further around him, scooting to the corner of the room and slipping his knees under his dress shirt to accumulate more warmth.

This was the most helpless Harry had felt in a long time. Probably since Hermione had been tortured in this same Manor, and he'd been unable to save her. For the first time in their expedition, he (both literally and figuratively) had nothing up his sleeve. How had they discovered who he was? Did they even know? Harry couldn't tell if the potion making their identities not connectable to their features was still working. And even more importantly, how was he going to get out of here?

Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, shivering and helpless in the corner of the small prison cell.

Hours, at the bare minimum. Perhaps even as much as a day. Twice an hour he'd been forced to get up and jog around the room to keep his body temperature up. Even the breath around him fogged up, releasing in silvery, Patronus-like wafts. A couple times, Harry had tried wandless magic, but for the first time, it had failed him. He supposed that the room had wards around it, blocking its use.

Finally, after what must have been nearly twenty-four hours, another person entered the room. Weakened and with a roaring stomach, Harry lifted his head. It was Narcissa Malfoy, donned in royal blue robes with her hair piled imperiously upon her head. Harry couldn't even find it in himself to be surprised.

"Good day, my little prisoner," she said, speaking sharply. Narcissa Malfoy looked different than Harry remembered from his home time line. Where once she had looked time-worn – beautiful, but too old for her relatively young years, she now looked positively evil. Harry gulped. Perhaps some part of him had been hoping that she would help him as she once had in order to escape Voldemort, but that little hope had just been squashed. Grimly, Harry supposed it was Draco Malfoy's fault that she was like this, as he hadn't been born yet and had (presumably) been the reason for her softening up.

"Ms. Malfoy," Harry said after a long pause. "What did I do to receive the pleasure of your company this evening?" Narcissa Malfoy sneered, and didn't even give Harry the corrected time of day, as he'd been suspecting.

"You, boy, have entered my home without permission, in order to procure an object gifted to my noble family by the Dark Lord himself," she said bluntly, staring him down with her hard, electric blue eyes. Harry said nothing. There was a blank silence for a while as Narcissa waited for him to respond. Finally, she asked, "do you not defend yourself?"

For the first time, she sounded more confused than predatory. Harry shook his head. "I've been caught. It was my goal to do as you said." She was silent, watching him with a inscrutable expression on her face. Harry took in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't immediately shoot down his next question: "if I may ask, Ms. Malfoy, would you mind telling me where my companions are?"

Narcissa laughed a high, very feminine, laugh. The chilling sound bounced off the brick-and-mortar walls definitively. Harry's heart sank.

"Did you really think I would tell you that, _prisoner?_ We have yet to discover your identity, and I may not be a marked Death Eater, but I have been married to one for years. I know what information to keep from prisoners, even if they are on death's doorstep." Harry was torn between sadness and happiness. In the first lucky break since his capture, it seemed that the potion was still in place. They didn't know who Harry, Sirius, or Remus really were. On the negative side, Harry still had no idea where or in what condition Sirius and Remus were.

Suddenly, Narcissa Malfoy took her wand out of her silver-lined pocket. Harry jerked in surprise, automatically moving his hand to his pocket to retrieve... well, anything, really. But his pockets and sleeves remained as empty as ever.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" she said, swishing her wand. Harry's body went rigid, stiffening until it was as flat as a board. Harry couldn't move a single muscle. "_Mobilacorpus._" Harry was lifted into the air with a jerk, as if lying on an invisible stretcher. The cell door creaked open, released by some unknown spell. Still attempting to struggle against the spell's bonds, Harry floated directly behind Narcissa Malfoy as they travelled through the Manor.

Craning his eyes (the only part of his body still mobile) to the right, he attempted to get a look at the other cells to see if Sirius or Remus were there. Nothing moved from within the other cells. Narcissa's high-heeled shoes clacked against the tile ground, the sounds echoing off the walls like a rhythm. Finally giving up on escape attempts or looking for his friends, Harry trained his eyes towards the ceiling, looking at the rough rocks upon the high ceiling. A minute later, they began to climb up a staircase. Finally, a complaining hinge announced their exit out of the dungeon.

Harry was lifted up through a trap door and released from the magical stretcher onto the wood floor, falling nearly five feet onto his back. Internally, he grimaced, back aching. He tried to strain his eyes to see what was going on, but they couldn't reach as far as he needed, and all he saw was the tips of his feet sticking straight up as if attached to a statue.

After a minute, he was once again lifted up and placed into a straight-backed chair. Ropes were tightened against him on his ankles, waist, wrists, and neck. Harry gulped, the rough magical rope chaffing uncomfortably against his neck.

"_Finite Incantatem,_" a male voice said in a deep, growling baritone. The_ Petrificus Totalus _was released, and Harry tried briefly to struggle, the the ropes held him firmly in place – pulled against the stiff wood chair too tightly to make any difference. Harry gave up quickly, not having the physical strength to continue.

Harry looked up for the first time, towards the faces of his captors. He didn't recognize the majority of them. There were sixteen people there, as many as Sirius had specified had lived in Malfoy Manor. Also as he'd told them, the vast majority were females. There were only three men Harry could see.

In the very front row was a disdainful and smug looking Clarissa Dolohov – Harry's "date." On her sides were Lamia Yaxley and Pandora Carrow, looking at him as if he were a bug squashed beneath their expensive Chimera skin heels. In a forward attitude unlike the girl he'd met during their dinner date, Pandora spoke loudly and decisively.

"Did you really think you could fool us, Mudblood?" she scoffed, flipping her hair. "We knew your plan from the start... the Pureblood test needed to enter the door gives us a full family tree of the person. Apparently, that man over there–" she pointed to the corner and Harry whipped his head around as fast as he could with his bindings. "–is Sirius Black, the disgraced son the the Ancient and Noble House."

Sirius looked terrible. He was unconscious and anemic looking. Though there was no blood visible, an involuntary twitching of his foot suggested torture via_ Cruciatus_.

"And that one, we learned, is apparently a werewolf!" Once again, Harry's head twisted at record speed. Remus sat in the opposite corner, similarly tied up, a red-stained gag tied around his mouth. Though Harry couldn't hear his words, Remus seemed to be trying to shout. A thin stream of blood was trickling down from his forehead.

"What did you do to them?" Harry asked, his voice low and dangerous. The Purebloods crowded around him laughed in a chorus of spiteful laughter.

"Don't use that tone with us, prisoner!" an unknown woman with blonde hair shrieked in a deranged voice from the back. "As if you could be above us, or even endanger us!" The laughter started up again. Harry had to admit they were right. He still had no ideas how to get out of this mess. Plus, he had no idea of the time period... for all he knew, he could be sent back to the 21st century as a corpse.

"You're right," Harry choked out, the words physically paining him. "But could you tell me what happened to my friends?"

One of the three men stepped forward. He was tall the thin, dressed in an unusually Muggle-like dark blue pinstripe suit. His face had the look of somebody middle aged, trying to look younger, his face strangely stretched and his hair's color perfectly even. In his hand was an ivory white wand.

"Well spoken, prisoner. We may as well grant you this information. We tortured the traitorous Black first, though he refused to speak and collapsed after only half an hour. The werewolf, however, had better pain resistance. I am unsurprised. I have heard tell that the werewolf transformation is extremely painful, though I am quite positive our treatment of him was more so." He said this very conversationally, in a tone one might have used talking about the weather instead of torture.

Harry attempted to lunge for the man wearing the pinstripe suit but was easily held back by his tethers. He felt sick to his stomach. While he'd been complaining about the cold down in the dungeon, Sirius and Remus had been withstanding torture. Bile rose in his throat and Harry threw up off the side of his chair, onto the white carpeting of the floor.

Several women in the front stepped back distastefully, making noises of disgust and turning way. The woman with blonde hair, who had reprimanded Harry for having an angry attitude a minute previous, pulled out her wand and vanished the pool of sick with a flick. Harry's mouth tasted like bile. In a fit of anger and spite, he spit onto the floor.

Clarissa Dolohov almost silent until now, spoke up again, seemingly annoyed for being interrupted in her story about how she had outwitted Harry.

"We Pureblood girls aren't like the Mudblood harlots you consort with. We are trained from a young age to throw off the _Imperius_ curse. I followed you the entire time you snuck through our Manor, and knocked you out when you tried to get this," she held up Riddle's Diary tauntingly between her perfectly manicured nails. Harry was silent, neither affirming nor denying anything. "The minute you and I left, your werewolf friend was knocked unconscious by Pandora, and Lamia hit the traitor Black with a stunner."

She had an air of boastfulness now, her back straightening up as she told her side of the story. However, Harry had noted one important thing. None of them seemed to know exactly what the Diary was, or why he wanted it so much. Harry chanced a glance towards Narcissa Malfoy who, since her retrieval of him from the prison cell, had been strangely silent. She looked stonily at Harry's "date," her fingers twitching as if to grab the Diary right out of her hands.

_Why hadn't she told them that the Diary was given to the Malfoys by Voldemort himself, to take care of? _Harry thought quickly, trying to dissect the information in his head. _It doesn't make any sense! Unless... unless she was trying to hide it from them? Why was the Diary even on the roof of all places, anyways? That doesn't seem like a place Lucius Malfoy would have hidden it. For him, it would have been flashier – someplace obviously Slytherin-themed, like a snake or a portrait of the founder. _

"Why did you want to retrieve this worthless piece of trash?" the suit wearing man asked commandingly, pointing his wand straight at Harry's chest.

"I'll never-!" Harry started, but before he could even finish his sentence, an all too familiar bolt of light his his chest. Pain like a thousand hot knives tore through his body, multiplied by a thousand due to the curse place on him what seemed like a century ago. He let out an unearthly scream, but he didn't hear it. He was too busy pulling against his restraints, his mind somehow hoping the pain would stop if he got released. After approximately half a minute (though it felt like an hour to him) the pain stopped.

Harry breathed hard, legs twitching uncontrollably.

"You don't have much pain tolerance, do you?" his torturer commented rhetorically, sounding disappointed. "Too bad! I so love when they try to stand up to me..." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Remus struggling against his binds to no avail and tried to silently communicate the message to remain innocuous.

"I'll ask you one more time, boy," the man asked, taking the lead and stepping past the line of slightly disturbed other women and men until he was right in front of Harry's face. Harry could feel and smell his breath. It was hot, leaving steam on the tip of Harry's nose, and it smelled strangely good, like mint or perhaps chamomile tea.

"Xavier..." somebody said from the masses behind him, sounding like they were going to start protesting Harry's treatment. Harry's heart leaped with hope. The newly dubbed, "Xavier," turned slowly, like a predator zeroing in on its prey.

"Yes, Miss Avery?" he whispered, sounding certifiable. The girl (who seemed to be the youngest there, perhaps 16 years old) winced, flitting her eyes towards the ground.

"Nothing, Xavier," she replied meekly. But the man wasn't done.

"What did you call me?" he asked, taking sick pleasure out of frightening the young girl, despite the fact that she was on his own side.

"I mean, nothing Mr. Nott," she said, changing his name to the more formal version. He stepped forward and patted her on the head as if she were a particularly well behaved puppy. The girl winced away from his touch. Xavier Nott smiled at this, looking at the rest of the group, women and men alike, who all had similar reactions to his unfocused gaze.

Harry was beginning to get a good gauge of life at Malfoy Manor. This man, Xavier Nott, seemed to be the leader of sorts, though he ruled through psychotic fear. Narcissa Malfoy was a less important character than he'd originally suspected, though it was still technically her land. The others, mostly women between their late teen years and late twenties, seemed to be less involved in the actual Dark things (if their reaction to Harry's retching had been any example) with the exceptions of his, Sirius' and Remus' dates and the woman with the blonde hair.

But the Man-Who-Conquered hardly had any time left to contemplate this before Xavier Nott was back in his face, spewing his sickly tea-smelling breath all over Harry's face.

"Before I was interrupted–" (the girl shrank back behind the oldest looking man there, who Harry suspected to be her father) "–I was telling you. You have _one more chance,_ filth. One more chance to tell us why you are here, who you are, and we'll let you live. If you don't... well." He chuckled perversely, sending shivers down Harry's spine. "Let's just leave that to your imagination. I'm sure you can fill in the blanks."

Harry's mind was rushing. He had no doubt that if he didn't tell them, he would die right here, on the spot. But he couldn't tell them what it was! The entire point of a Horcrux was to keep the creator, Voldemort, in this case, still "alive." _Voldemort _was in that flimsy diary Clarissa Dolohov was holding. If they learned what it was, Harry was absolutely sure they could find a way to resurrect him, which they surely would.

In a split second, he made up his mind. _I'm going to have to lie like I've never lied before. _

Harry's voice cracked. "Do you mean you're going to... k-kill me?" Xavier backed away from Harry's face for the first time since they'd been talking and smiled widely. His teeth were yellow and, unsurprisingly, tea stained.

He didn't mess around in his answer. "Yes, you ignorant, uneducated swine. When your enemy threatens you with torture that means if you don't tell us what we need, we will kill you right here, in front of your werewolf _pet._" Harry had to try hard not to lunge at him. He looked down at his feet, still covered by the now scuffed dress shoes he'd worn for their triple date.

"Fine... I'll tell you," said Harry in a broken voice, turning away from Remus as if not wanting to meet his eyes. The entire group looked triumphant and excited. "We came here to get that journal."

"Yes, yes, we know that already!" the woman with the blonde hair said impatiently, pushing through two rows of complaining Purebloods to get to the front. She stood next to Xavier Nott and twisted her weight onto her left leg, glaring at them with light green eyes.

She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. She was the kind of person who you knew had been the Prom Queen (or whatever the Magical equivalent of that was) and turned all sorts of heads until she hit 30. Now that she was closer, Harry could see her caked on makeup rimming her eyes in kohl. Her lips, unnaturally plump and red, stood out against her slightly wrinkled, pale face. Her blonde hair, tied up in a severe bun reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall, added to his impression of her.

"I was getting there," Harry whined, speaking in an attitude very unlike his real personality. "Anyways, we needed the diary because..." Harry's voice puttered out into silence, unable to think of a reason why they would need it. Luckily, his captors seemed to see it as second guessing him telling the "truth," not struggling to make up a lie.

"_Get to the point, or these words will be your last!"_ Xavier Nott said between clenched teeth.

Then, Harry was hit with a sudden flash of inspiration. "We needed the diary as proof that we had been here. Our employer is a very vocal advocate to put all people in this room in Azkaban for life. He'd been told that there was an important dark object hidden in Malfoy Manor, though he knew it had been thoroughly searched several times by Aurors."

Several neo-Death Eaters chuckled disdainfully, clearly arrogant about the fact that they'd managed to hide innumerable Dark items from the wizarding police.

"He heard tell of this journal... diary... _thing_ from a drunk man at the Hobbling Hag Bar. The man he met told him how the diary was full of information we could use to persecute all of you and send you to Azkaban. We were hired for 5,000 Galleons each to sneak in here and retrieve it using some Runes he gave us."

It was a long-winded answer, but Harry was simply happy to have it over with and not been interrupted by disdainful comments. The hallway was silent. Even Remus had stopped struggling, listening to Harry's story with an impressed look on his face, though he quickly exchanged it for a mask of anger towards Harry, as if mad that he'd told their "secret."

Xavier Nott looked stunned, speechless for the first time since Harry had laid eyes on him. Then, getting over his shock, he whipped around towards Clarissa Dolohov, who was staring at the object in her hands, stunned. Without saying anything, Nott grabbed the diary from her hands with force that surely would have ripped it had it been a normal diary. He flipped it open to a randomly selected page. Harry knew what he would find.

Momentarily, he looked confused. He looked at the inside cover, then released the pages like a Muggle flip book. A high pitched laugh saturated the air, coming from Harry's main assailant, Xavier Nott.

"It's empty!" he shouted, holding the open book up for the tensed crowd to see. They all began laughing, though they sounded more relieved than vindictive. He turned back to Harry. "So much for your book of proof!" he spit triumphantly. Harry faked a look of pure shock and horror, looking at Riddle's diary disbelievingly.

"Want to see, Mudblood?" Nott taunted, speaking as if talking to a small, incredibly stupid child. "See? Nothing in it at all!"

Harry still sat, bound, in his chair, looking as if he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning. "But... but..." he stuttered. "It's not possible..." Seemingly coming to his senses, Nott placed the diary on a nearby coffee table and pointed his wand at it.

"_Finite Incantatem!"_ he said clearly. Nothing happened, even through the four other tests he took it through. "This is worth nothing to you, or to me!" he said in glee. "_Incendio!_"

He attempted to burn the book. Harry gulped. He hadn't planned for this. The Horcrux, being a Horcrux, wouldn't burn. Or be destroyed by pretty much any other spell. Narcissa Malfoy, however, didn't know this.

"No! Stop!" she said shrilly, stepping forward and entering the conversation for the first time since she'd fetched Harry. Everybody quieted, and looked at her. She kept composure, straightening up.

"We don't know what it is," said Narcissa stiffly. Xavier Nott narrowed his eyes.

"But you should. This is, at any rate, your mansion, Mrs. Malfoy. Tell us, what is this extremely interesting, and–" he spared the unmarred book a surprised glance "–apparently flame proof book?" The onlooker's heads swiveled once again, spectators to a tennis match. This time looking at the completely unharmed diary. Confused and anxious murmurs spread like wildfire through the small crowd.

"I do not know what this journal is," she repeated. "This is the first I've heard of it in my time living here."

Harry was baffled. _Why is she pretending not to know what it is? What motive does she have? _Harry was sure she didn't pity him. She hadn't spared him even a glance of remorse, even as he'd been violently tortured. Harry's mind whirred._ Could it be that she doesn't trust the people here? _he wondered. She was a Slytherin, after all. Perhaps the most truly Slytherin people Harry knew, actually. Narcissa Malfoy was the epitome of sly and cunning. Harry could see why she wouldn't trust this crowd.

Perhaps Narcissa Malfoy suspected one of them of conspiring with the Ministry to get evidence convicting them? She was the top suspect living in Malfoy Manor. Her husband had been one of the highest profile Death Eaters before he'd been sent to Azkaban.

"So you wouldn't care if we... destroyed it?" Xavier Nott taunted, holding up the diary before the disgraced woman's perfectly cut features. She seemed to consider. Harry tried to guess what was going through her head. As far as she knew, Voldemort was gone for good. To her, there was no point in keeping a useless book he'd given them. It had far more worth in taking away suspicion from her than anything else.

"Not at all," she said dismissively. Harry couldn't believe his good fortune. Were they really destroying a Horcrux for him? Could he seriously be that lucky? It seemed, in fact, that they were. With an air of arrogance and boastfulness, Nott threw the diary onto the carpet. It landed with its pages splayed out, binding facing the ceiling.

"_Diffindo,_" he said. Nothing happened. A crease appeared upon his forehead. "_Reducto!_" Nothing again. A few people giggled from the back, inaccurately guessing it was shoddy spellwork, not the diary itself, which wouldn't let it be destroyed. Nott glared at them until they were quiet, though two small pink patches had appeared upon his high cheekbones.

"_Incendio Maximus! Relashio! Eradico! CORRUMPO!"_ His voice got angrier and angrier, and his spells Darker and Darker as they all failed. The blonde woman scoffed.

"Let me try," she said, shoving Xavier Nott aside.

"Amara Sethos, don't you-" he said warningly, but the woman (called "Amara Sethos") didn't listen.

"_Attero! Anullo!_" There were still no results. She narrowed her eyes. She seemed to have an even worse temper than Nott. Her voice grew shriller and more furious as she screamed curses at the diary. It remained untouched. She tried for nearly a minute, using Dark spells Harry had heard about only in ancient books and Wizarding horror stories. Finally, she exploded with anger.

"_FEINDFYRE!_" She yelled at the top of her voice.

Behind her, Xavier Nott yelled, "Amara! _No!"_ But it was far too late. Unearthly flame leaped from the tip of her wand and lit the diary up like a firecracker. Amara Sethos' psychotically grinning face was illuminated by the uncontrolled Fiendfyre.

Before Harry's disbelieving eyes, the last Horcrux burned to a crisp in no more than a second. However, he had no time to celebrate the completion of his quest. He was still firmly bound to the chair with inch-thick ropes, the raging Fiendfyre eating up the floor. Screams of terror swept through the large hallway. From the sidelines, four of the older witches took out their wands and shot spells at the Fiendfyre, trying in vain to stop it from spreading. But it was no use. Only the creator of the spell could cancel it. It was one of the things that made it so dangerous. A woman with very short black hair ran up to the still-laughing Amara Sethos and grabbed her by the shoulder, trying to get her to stop the fire which was burning just a few feet from the crazy caster.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

In a terrifyingly strong, fluid movement, Sethos grabbed the woman's arm and flung her over her shoulder and into the six-foot flames. The tortured scream of a dying animal resounded in the already clamorous hall. Amara Sethos had killed one of her own, a fellow neo-Death Eater. She showed no signs of regret. The other women who had been trying to stop the fire were stunned and frozen still, unable to compute what had just happened. The woman's terrible scream continued for around eight seconds before it stopped.

Amara Sethos continued to laugh.

The rest of the Pureblood supremacists who had been keeping him captive attempted to flee, but the fire was spreading too fast. It had already blocked off the exit leading directly outside. Several women and a man tried to run up the marble staircase into another room but were once against stopped by the ethereal, flaming beings which seemed to live in the evil fire. Two of them (both women) were grabbed by two bounding fire beasts and taken to the heart of the fire. Once again, the terrible screams rung about the room.

Harry himself was now hardly two feet from the encroaching flames. He'd managed to scoot the entire chair back several yards, fleeing the flames at a painfully slow rate. He coughed violently from the sheer amount of smoke trapped in the hall. His whole situation struck him as ironic. They had only just finished their quest to destroy all Voldemort's Horcruxes, and here he was about to die at the hands of some crazy woman.

Harry closed his eyes, awaiting what would surely be an extremely painful death. Then, miraculously, his bindings fell away. The sound of the fire roared in his ears, the intense heat making his mostly healed burns flare up painfully. Harry stood, running towards the only area not in flames, looking for his savior. Upon finding him, Harry's heart lifted. It was Sirius; an utterly confused, adrenaline-running, and tortured Sirius, but a conscious Sirius nonetheless.

Harry tried to yell a thank you, but his words-turned-cough were drowned out by screams and crackling fire. Sirius pointed to something. Harry turned, and his heart dropped once again. Remus was still bound, scooting his chair as Harry had with sheer terror reflected in his eyes. A fiery eagle was swooping down from the sky...

"_Relashio!_" Harry yelled, hoping beyond hope that the wandless spell would work here, though they had not in the Dungeon. Harry could barely hear his own smoke-scratchy voice. Unprepared for the sudden release from his bonds, Remus stumbled out of the chair, falling to the ground. He scrambled to get up, only just managing to dodge the claws of the Fiendfyre eagle.

"_Accio Harry, Sirius, and Remus' wands!_" Harry yelled as loudly as he could, hoping beyond hope that it would work. Harry saw nothing but fire at first, and fire everywhere. Despair clouded his mind. Then, suddenly, something hit him in the back of the head. Harry whipped around, hands out and ready to cast at his attacker. But instead, bobbling jerkily in the heated air, were the three wands. Harry had never felt so relieved. He grabbed his and yelped as the heat of the wood nearly burned him. With a flick of his wrist, he cooled them down, and handed Sirius his. Across the room, Remus was still looking for a way out of his flaming prison.

Remus searched the burning room for Sirius and Harry, but finally found them. A thin strait of non-burning ground connected them. Without thinking about it, Remus barreled towards it, throwing spells left and right to try and break the Fiendfyre spell without success.

Harry's heart slowed the tiniest bit when Remus reached them. At least now they were all together. Remus tried to say something. In a sudden burst of insight, Sirius cast the_ Sonorus _spell on all three of them.

"_The windows!_" Remus was saying, voice amplified, speaking over the multiple screams of dying people caught in the flames. Harry, unable to hold back, looked behind them. The fire was moving towards them, only fifteen yards away. Ripping his terrified eyes from the encroaching flames, Harry looked up. Said windows were huge, easily thirty feet tall, reaching to the ceiling. Harry returned Remus' wand to him, shoving it into his friend's hand. Remus looked grateful at the return of his long-time friend and aimed it into the air.

"_Diffindo!_" Remus yelled, his voice rough from the smoke. The window closest to them gained a gigantic crack, splitting its panes in two. Harry barely had time to create a shield charm before foot long and larger shards of glass reigned down upon them, shattering around their feet in a sea of noise and sharp edges. Sirius yelled involuntarily as one caught him on the calf, giving him a long, deep cut. He staggered, but Harry and Remus caught him under his armpits.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Harry said, pointing at Sirius. Sirius, overcome with the smoke, low amounts of adrenaline, pain, and post-torture symptoms, had fallen unconscious. Or at least Harry hoped he was only unconscious. But Harry refused to think about that. More slowly than Harry felt he should be doing, he lifted Sirius out of the window and laid him a good distance away underneath one of the huge trees surrounding Malfoy Manor.

Before Remus had time to do the same to him, Harry caught him in a levitation spell, lifting him out of the window and depositing him next to Sirius. Harry looked back. The flame was just fifteen feet away now. The screams had died down. Harry tried not to think of what that must mean, as the entire room (save the small patch where Harry stood) was now covered in the Magical flames.

Harry had only just cast the levitation charm on himself, aiming to lift himself out the window, when a female voice yelled,

"_Finite Incantatem!" _Harry dropped the few feet he'd lifted off the ground with a painful shock. He whirled around. It was Amara Sethos, the insane creator of the Fiendfyre. She was still laughing.

Her once beautiful hair had been completely scorched off, and a huge burn had eaten her left hand. Blackened bone stuck out of her wrist at an awkward angle. Harry staggered back in horror, fear flooding his heart.

She shot a Killing Curse at Harry without a second thought. Harry ducked to one side, feeling for all his life a cornered animal. A colorful array of spells shot off the tip of her wand, flying at him with terrible accuracy – a side effect he was sure came from her crippling injury and the general delirium. In between dodging and keeping an eye on the Fiendfyre, Harry hardly had a second to think, much less send curses back. Then, something even crazier happened.

In yet another burst of flame, Izlanzi appeared. Harry was literally struck dumb by her appearance. Izlanzi dive bombed Amara Sethos, her claws ripping into her shoulder and scalp. Sethos screamed in pain. Izlanzi flew upwards to prepare for another dive bomb, deeming her unable to cast another spell.

But, for the first time since he'd bought her at Magical Menagerie, Izlanzi was wrong. Her eyes red and watery from the overwhelming smoke, Sethos lifted her wand straight at Harry.

"_Avada_-" she started to screech... but she never got any further. A red spell hit her from the back. Amara Sethos fell to the ground, a surprised expression painted on her face. By this time, Harry was simply too tired to care much who (or what) had saved him. The world was darkening fast. The flames were only five feet away from him. He was vaguely aware of another human presence... a female, wearing royal blue.

Something grabbed him by the back of his burnt dress robes and lifted him up, the nameless woman as well. The sound of flapping wings surrounded him, overriding even the crackling, roaring fire. Harry's shoe caught fire, the rubber melting quickly. Barely awake, he weakly slipped it off, and let it fall to the ground.

Slowly, the intense heat and smoke receded. A hot wind and the a sound like a huge bonfire was all that was left. Finally, after what might have been a minute or an hour of flying, Harry was deposited gently onto cool grass.

Anxious voices swirled around him, sounding both loud and quiet at the same time. The last thing he was aware of was a strange, twisting and sucking feeling before he completely lost consciousness.

**END OF CHAPTER**

Well, here you are. I hope part 1 of the story climax suited you! Pretty please, review! It really makes my day, and any suggestions/necessary corrections would be great. Also, if you hadn't noticed, I changed my name from "Aquahina," to "ScribbleWorld." Like? Dislike?


	33. True Family

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated with it in an (legal way) other than as a fan.

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Family**

Harry's world was black, and painful. Every inch of him, down to the very marrow of his bones, ached with a vengeance - as if his limbs were trying to exact revenge for the frequent beatings they had been taking lately.

Somebody was trying to wake him roughly, the rough calluses in their hands gyrating uncomfortably against his skin. Whisps of conversation floated down to him. Phrases like, "-are you doing here," "Harry," "-up!" and "-Manor."

Harry tried to get up, but his muscles were too exhausted. He settled for opening his eyes and trying to ignore the freakishly strong, blinding sunlight stabbing into his corneas. Harry grunted in pain, one hand slapping over his eyes to protect them.

"_Harry!_" Two familiar voices cried in relieved synchronization.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked, sounding concerned. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but all that come out was a painful, smoky croak. He hacked out a few scratchy coughs, and soon enough he was handed a conjured glass of water.

Harry downed it immediately, feeling instant relief as it soothed his smoke-affected throat. When he had finished, he was handed another cup, which he finished a few seconds later.

Finally, after four glasses of water, Harry's throat was calmed, and his eyes adjusted.

"I'm not feeling so great, guys," he responded, rubbing his dry eyes. This was an understatement. A more real sentiment would have sounded something like, 'Great, bloody Merlin I feel horrible!' but he had decided that was a bit melodramatic. Harry coughed again, grasping his stomach as if squeezing it would make him feel better.

Harry looked around him for the first time, still squinting a little bit. They were in a very familiar hotel room. To confirm, Harry peered out the window. Yep, there was Diagon Alley. They were at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry stood up and walked over to the window, intent on getting a better view of the wizarding world. It had been a while since he'd been here for anything unrelated to the Horcrux Hunt.

The usual witches and wizards bustled around in and out of store fronts in their brightly colored robes. The usual congregation of salivating children looking in at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and the shining broomstick in the window. The usual squawking emanating from Eeylops Owl Emporium, the weighted-down people leaving Flourish and Blotts.

It all seemed so... normal. And happy, for that matter.

They didn't even know what Harry, Sirius, and Remus had been doing for the last months. Hell, they had not idea that (until recently, when the Death Eaters destroyed the last Horcrux) Voldemort could have still risen again. Harry wasn't sure if he liked or disliked this, but he suspect that later he would be grateful for it. And that brought him to his next thought. With a sudden bolt of thought, he whipped around, facing an alarmed Sirius and Remus.

"What day is it?" he said, talking very fast, his eyes wide. "When do I return to the 21st century?"

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, looking grim, but silence still prevailed. Harry asked again, more hysterical this time. Finally, Sirius answered.

"You return in four hours," he responded. Harry was astounded. Trying to recollect his thoughts, he felt over to the bed and laid down on it.

"How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked weakly, trying to piece things together.

"Only around nine hours," replied Sirius. "We were at Malfoy Manor for around two days."

"I need to see my father and mother before I leave!" Harry yelled into the air. The sudden movement sent a spike of pain through his body. Harry grunted and stumbled back onto the bed, his throat once again burning from the smoke.

"Soon enough, Harry," Remus assured. "First, we need to-"

"I don't want to do anything first!" yelled Harry, a wild, panicked look in his eye. "Do you have any idea how much I have changed the past here? These last four hours could easily be the last ones I have with any of you! Hell, it could be the last time I see Diagon Alley standing!"

Silence swept through the inn room. Sirius and Remus looked struck at the strong fears Harry seemed to have been harboring for a while.

"I know you want-" Harry glared at Remus, who had been speaking, "-okay, _need,_ to see James and Lily and have as much time as you can as soon as possible. And we understand that – really. We want to see them too, even though we don't have a time limit. But first, you have to see our prisoner."

For the first time in their conversation, Harry's attention was taken away from the timeline and his parents. "Prisoner?" he said incredulously, looking around the room. "Where? _Who?_"

Sirius got up from the small wooden stool he'd been perched on and opened the sliding door of the walk-in closet. Inside, a woman was strapped to a chair by what must have been yards of rope. Her face was concealed by the dark, and her messy hair falling in front of her face.

"_Lumos,_" Sirius said, pointing his wand in so Harry could see who it was. "_Enervate!_" The woman woke with a jerk, her had flying up.

It was Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry was shocked, not only by her status as their prisoner, but also her physical appearance. She looked horrible. Her royal blue dress had been smeared with ash, much of the train burnt off and hemmed with black charcoal. Her ice-blue eyes were wild and scared, flitting all around and trying to see where she was. Her hair, the color her son Draco would one day inherit, was halfway burnt off and covered in grime.

"Why are you keeping me here?" She demanded with trouble, her voice coming out scratchy. Sirius and Remus neither moved nor answered, stony masks on their faces.

"You are a Death Eater," Sirius stated, dour. She opened her mouth to protest but all that came out was a husky cough. Harry, having the same feeling in his own throat, took pity on her.

"Give her some water, guys. We're not Voldemort here – she deserves that at the very least," Harry said, sitting up slowly. Remus looked properly chastised and flicked his wand, muttering something under his breath. He held it out as if to hand it to her.

Narcissa Malfoy looked at him with detestation, and he flushed when he remembered her hands were securely bound. He hesitated before holding the glass to her lips. She drank eagerly, not stopping for any breath until the last drop had been gleaned from the glass.

Sirius, unmoved by her desperation and Harry's statement, still glared at her. When she looked ready to talk again, Sirius silenced her, to her outrage.

"That doesn't change the fact that she is married to Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man," the dog animagus stated viciously. Harry had to admit he had a point. He bit his lip, struggling to find something to protect the woman who had saved his life from Voldemort in the Battle of Hogwarts. Deep in contemplation, he stared at the charred hem of her royal blue dress. A flash of memory came to him.

He'd been nearly dead by Amara Sethos' hand when Narcissa had stunned her and tried to help him.

"Sirius – where did you find her, anyways?" Harry asked, confused.

"She was with you when you came out of the building. Izlanzi was holding her too... can't imagine why." Sirius glared at Narcissa Malfoy, and she glared back. For the first time, Harry noticed Izlanzi perched in the corner. She cooed.

_You're lucky I was there at all, you idiot! _she said scathingly, her transmitted thoughts piercing his mind._ I hear nothing of you, not even a, 'hey, Izlanzi!' for nearly two months, and then when you finally call me, it's to fly your dog friend to an island! And when I give in and check on you, I have to save you again! What am I, you're-_

_Morgana's bloody nipple ring, Izlanzi, I get it! _he snapped, then noticed his tone of voice... er- thought, and corrected himself into a softer cadence. _I'm sorry. I should have talked with you more. You're not just some pet to string along when I need help. _

Izlanzi, gratified but still sulking, transformed into a baby bear, who growled at Harry when me motioned to get up and stop her moping. Shaking his head fondly at her attitude, Harry returned to the problem at hand.

"She saved my life," Harry stated calmly, looking back to the bound woman, who tore her eyes from the empty water glass to look at him.

"Yes, we know she _will_ save your life, or would have if you hadn't killed Voldemort, but-" Sirius argued impatiently, but Harry cut him off.

"I mean she saved my life in Malfoy Manor. She stopped Amara Sethos when she was about to kill me." Sirius and Remus looked dumbfounded. They stared at Narcissa Malfoy with astonishment. She gazed at the pair reproachfully, as if trying to say, 'I told you so' through her magical gag.

There was an awkward silence as they tried to decide what to do. Sirius and Remus, unwilling to admit that they had been wrong in tying her up and stuffing her into the closet, stood stock still. Harry tried to sit up, but Remus hastily pushed him back down. Harry looked between the two, as did Narcissa Malfoy.

"Well?" Said Harry in a sarcastic manner. "Aren't you going to let her out?"

Sirius sighed, apparently not having thought up a good reason to keep her bound.

"Fine..." he conceded unwillingly, and pointed his wand at her. "_Relashio,_" he mumbled, saying the spell as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. The second she was released, Narcissa started on a verbal warpath.

"You two imbeciles! I save your oh-so-special friend from seconds away from death, and _this_ is what I get? Do you realize there were _spiders_ in that closet? I should have just left the three of you to be eaten by those flames! I-"

"I am deeply sorry, Ms. Malfoy," Harry apologized, bowing slightly. She stiffened.

"I would hope so!" she snapped, flicking what was left of her hair over her shoulder. Upon reminder of her hair's state, she ran her fingers through it, mourning its loss. There was an uncomfortable silence.

Harry looked at his companions. Remus and Sirius looked back.

"I need to leave," said Harry suddenly. Sirius and Remus opened their mouths in synchronization, both surely contesting Harry's sentiment. But Harry didn't let them continue.

"Guys, my situation is nothing like either of yours. In less than four hours, I'm going to disappear from this time plane. Forever. I'll never again see either of you the same as you are now, or my parents, or anybody else here for that matter! I don't care if I'm not fully recovered. I don't have time to recover. I need to go now."

Sirius and Remus were quiet. They glanced at each other, communicating non-verbally.

"We know, Harry," Remus said, speaking for both of them. "We understand that, and though our need isn't as time constrained as yours, we really want to see James, Lily, and everyone else as well." Harry released a breath he hadn't known he was holding in.

"We'll leave in ten minutes," Sirius stated determinedly, staring at the belongings strewn about the floor of the hotel room. "Remus – could you get some headache medicine and post-Cruciatus drought from the Apothecary?"

"Sure," said Remus. "I'll be back in a minute." Remus left the room, closing the door behind him with a barely audible 'click.' The second the werewolf left, Sirius turned towards Narcissa Malfoy (who was still caressing her hair in sorrow) and silenced her, magical ropes appearing out of no where and hog tying her for the second time that day.

"_Sirius!_" Harry yelled angrily, sitting up quickly and glaring at his friend. "She is _not_ our prisoner!" Sirius turned towards Harry with an apologetic grin.

"Sorry, Harry. I just didn't want her interrupting. We need to make a decision about what to do with her." Narcissa Malfoy, who had been struggling from her position on the ground even more violently than before, started and looked up at the two of them.

"We have to let her go, Sirius. I know you're sensitive on this type of matter, but Voldemort is gone for good this time. There isn't such thing as a lackey when they have no leader." A thought struck Harry for the first time. "And what about Draco Malfoy?" Narcissa Malfoy looked utterly confused. "He'll never be born."

"From what you've told me of him, Harry, I wouldn't really care," Sirius spat vindictively. Harry frowned, sitting up in the bed and ignoring the pounding headache.

"Sirius, this is her so- relative you're talking about." Harry corrected himself out of habit. "He, or will be, a human being. I may not exactly like him, but still, that's no reason to-"

"He's not going to be born, anyways," Sirius grumbled. "His precious father is in _Azkaban_, or have you forgotten?" Harry's bloodshot eyes widened dramatically. He hadn't realized this, as a matter of fact. All children of the imprisoned Death Eaters would never be born, unless they were already conceived at this time, in womb. However, that excluded all people in Harry's year, and about a third of the Slytherins students younger than four years older than Harry.

It was a confusing, yet terrifying, thought. Blaise Zambini... Pansy Parkinson... Draco Malfoy... Vincent Crabbe... Greggory Goyle... almost every Slytherin in Harry's year (excluding Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis) had been children of Death Eaters.

Would they all be dead when he returned to his own time? He certainly didn't have time to correct it. There wasn't anything he could do, short of staging an unplanned, three-hour prison break from Azkaban and releasing nearly 30 prisoners!

Harry shuddered, but pushed the thought away from his mind.

It was perhaps the most morally irredeemable thing he had ever done (_ever!_) but... Harry couldn't save them. He had four, no – Harry checked the clock – three and a half hours left in 1978. There literally wasn't enough time to fix everything. And, though he was certain he would be sent to hell for making it a higher priority than attempting to save lives, he wanted to see his parents for a last time.

Once again, thoughts of possible futures rose unbidden into his mind. Everything would be different, no doubt. What would be the consequences? What if – no, Harry refused to think of that. There were too many terrifying answers to that eternal question.

"We can't do anything for Draco," Harry replied quietly, his eyes surprisingly dry. "We have no choice." Though he had previously advocated Harry's exact answer, now that it was coming to fruition, Sirius looked grave and ashamed.

"We- we don't have to–" Sirius started, already taking back his points.

"No, you were right, Sirius. We don't have any options here. We have no time, and more importantly, we have no way to do anything. It's time to just leave things as they stand."

After a moment's hesitation, Sirius' head bowed in accordance. "But what do we do with her?" Sirius asked again, gesturing towards Narcissa, who (to their good fortune) still hadn't caught on what they were talking about.

"We let her go, of course."

"Now?"

"We can't release her _precisely_ now, but today. After I... after I leave."

Sirius looked speculative as he stared down the female Malfoy as if judging her. "Okay, I agree," he finally said after a couple minutes of internal debate. "Though we should erase her memories of us keeping her captured. It would cause trouble."

Narcissa Malfoy let out an indignant "MMPH!" accentuated by her slamming her heel onto the ground to gain attention. Harry thought she looked more like a petulant toddler than a stately woman.

While Harry stared at the bound woman, Sirius took out his wand and stared at the mess on the floor with distaste. Exactly how it had gotten so messy in such a relatively short span of time (nine hours) was a mystery to him. Setting those thoughts out of his mind, Sirius flicked his wand in a short movement, chanting a sentence of distorted Latin under his breath. In a whirlwind of movement and flying cotton, all clothing and other belongings lifted off the floor, levitating in a surprisingly graceful movement. Then, in an organized line, they began to march into Harry's bottomless trunk, each sock folding into a neat ball.

Harry raised a surprised eyebrow. Sirius sighed, and supplied a brief explanation. "My mother was obsessive compulsive over bedroom cleanliness. I kept it dirty usually just to spite her, but I do know how to clean well." Harry shrugged, still a bit surprised this particular skill hadn't come to his attention during their long stay together.

Almost precisely after the last eagle feather quill and pair of underwear had successfully packed themselves into the trunk, the hotel room door came crashing open, revealing a harried Remus holding several clinking bottles of multicolored liquid.

"You – take these," he muttered, handing Harry three vials. He handed Sirius two, and drank two himself. Harry peered into the bottle at the first liquid, which was colored an unusual blue, neon color. Uncorking it, Harry poured it into his mouth with trepidation, and was pleasantly surprised to find the taste good, if a bit tangy. He quickly downed the other two, which tasted like oranges and tomatoes, a strange but not totally disgusting combination.

"Time to go," Harry stated after he'd disposed of the vials, tossing them perfectly into the dustbin by the door. Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement, Izlanzi adding a hoot of agreement from Harry's bedpost.

"Are you strong enough to Apparate, Harry?" Remus asked worriedly, looking Harry up and down as if checking for physical signs of further sickness.

"I'm fine, Moony," snapped Harry, wrenching him off the bed and grabbing his wand from the bedside table. Remus looked a bit affronted at Harry's tone, but seemed to understand.

"Then let's go. Apparate in front of the Hog's Head?" confirmed Sirius, shrinking the trunk into the size of a matchbox and putting it into his pocket. There were murmurs of agreement from all parties there.

And with a startlingly loud "POP," all three disappeared.

Apparition was painful for Harry. He gritted his teeth as the familiar (but no less unpleasant) feeling of being sucked through a small tube swept over his body, seeming to suction his flesh towards their destination. Finally, after eight endless seconds of pain, Harry's feet hit the hard-packed dirt road in front of the Hog's Head Bar in Hogsmeade. The Man Who Conquered sucked in a long breath, his heart slowing.

A second later, Sirius made a sudden appearance, stumbling out of thin air to Harry's right. And less than a second later, Remus too appeared next to Harry, stepping on his left foot. Harry winced, pulling his shoe from under Remus' foot.

"Sorry, Harry," apologized the rumpled werewolf as he attempted to straighten his skewed jacket with little success.

Harry turned and looked up in front of him, and almost forgot to breathe. Hogwarts castle was there, barely more than 400 yards away, its impossibly tall, pointed turrets pointing up into the sky as if trying to puncture the fluffy, cumulus clouds above. Several black dots were flying above the Quidditch field far away, dodging in and out of each other with speed and agility. Owls flew peacefully over the Forbidden Forest, searching for mice.

Harry's heart felt lighter than it had in months. Perhaps since he'd arrived in the past. It was Hogwarts... his first ever home. He allowed himself a small smile as he stood there, just staring at the Magical school with wonder.

It was nearly a minute before Sirius disturbed him from his reverent silence, offering Harry a bottle of Butterbeer he'd purchased in the Hog's Head. Harry accepted eagerly, the sweet, candy-like taste giving him an even more acute case of deja vu. It had been a while since he'd had Butterbeer. Harry smiled, for the first time that day feeling relaxed.

"Come on, guys, let's get to the castle," Harry said, smiling as Izlanzi landed on his shoulder, whistling happily upon sensing his happy emotions.

_It's good to see you so happy,_ Harry, she communicated mentally, flying high over their heads. Harry laughed out loud.

_I'm glad to be happy!_ he thought joyously, for once not worried of jinxing his happiness.

"Hey Sirius, race you!" Harry challenged, changing into his snow leopard animagus form and slinging a shocked Remus onto his back before bolting at top speed down the dirt forest road. Sirius was knocked out of his surprised state of mind a second later, barking out a laugh before turning into his dog form in a fluid shrinking movement.

Harry was faster than Sirius in his snow leopard form, that much was obvious. However, with the half-exhilarated, half-terrified Remus holding onto Harry's back for dear life, Harry was more than slightly impeded. Or so he claimed was his reason for losing when Sirius managed to win by no more than a second.

Laughing and windswept, they approached the castle doors, not noticing the astonished whispers and stares from the students who had been lounging out in the Saturday sun. There weren't very many students left (as the official school year had ended three days before) so all who were left were Head Boy and Girl, as well as several more influential club leaders who stayed behind an extra five days into summer break in order to plan the coming school year.

Harry pushed the tall, double doors open with exuberance unlike his most recent demeanor.

Anticlimactically, the Great Hall was empty. Harry, Sirius, and Remus shuffled in, more cautiously this time. Behind them, several students were still staring at them in stunned silence. The three men walked into the Great Hall, staring around at its nearly untouched majesty as if seeing it for the first time. It sure felt like it, for Harry at least.

"We- we should spread out to find James and Lily," Remus said, still in awe.

"Agreed," said Sirius. He took out his wand and cast the familiar 'Homenum Revelio' spell. Closing his eyes, Sirius could see through the entire castle, noticing 14 red-outlined human silhouettes on the floors. He narrowed down where James and Lily could be (not in the Hufflepuff Common Room, not in the boy's bathroom, not in Professor Flitwick's quarters...) before he found them. (Or what he hoped was them.)

"They're walking down the second floor corridor in the west wing together," the dog animagus announced, undoing the spell with a casual flick of the wrist. Excited at seeing their friends and parents face-to-face for the first time in what seemed like years, the three rushed up the stairs, getting stuck in two trap steps in their haste. Laughing at each other's expense, they nearly didn't notice when they finally reached the correct corridor.

"-unfair!" Sirius was complaining as he tugged his leg out of the trap. He turned into his black dog form and pounced on top Remus, sitting firmly on his chest and stopping him from getting up.

"Padfoot!" Remus laughed, gasping for breath. "I can't breathe-"

Harry, who had reached the top of the steps first, was quiet, staring at the couple standing approximately 20 feet down the corridor. Noticing his uncharacteristically quiet demeanor, Sirius and Remus looked up, following his eyes towards their friends.

"H-Harry? Sirius? Remus?" James said weakly. The three nodded in silence. "You're back?" Again, they nodded, this time allowing huge smiles to encompass their faces. But it was James' walking partner and girlfriend, Lily, who broke the stunned silence first.

In a streak of long, dark red hair, she rushed over to Harry, hugging him so tight he thought his ribs might break. "I — missed — you — so — much!" she said, squeezing harder with each word. Harry was taken aback. Despite her accepting attitude when he had seen her through the Floo network, he'd been slightly worried she would be uncomfortable with the fact that he was from the future, and her son no less. A second later, James came bounding towards them, pulling Sirius' head down into a nuggie while the taller boy wheezed in astonishment.

The next few minutes were filled with joyful reunions from all parties, James and Harry in particular. Finally, strange 'hello's finished, they stood together, smiling so hard they thought their faces might crack. For the first time, Harry got a better look at James and Lily. They looked very different from the boy and girl he'd met in the beginning of his unorthodox seventh year in 1977.

James especially had grown from a boy into a man. Though his stature had diminished upon his greetings with Sirius and Remus, it was obvious Lily had forced some maturity into him — whether he had asked for it or not. He was a good two inches taller, and his deep black hair hung shaggier around his hazel eyes. Lily too looked older, her expression more open than Harry remembered. Almost unconsciously, Lily and James had intertwined their fingers while talking to Harry, Sirius and Remus.

Sirius and Remus were grinning at their compatibility, still not used to seeing Lily returning James' feelings with more than a berating yell or stamped foot.

Harry, on the other hand, looked at the two with a strange sense of deja vu. This was how he had expected to see them when he had looked into Snape's pensieve back in his fifth year. This is how they _should _have been. He felt proud to have taken part in them getting together.

"We were worried that you wouldn't be able to make it back before Harry has to return to the future," Lily was saying, removing her hand from James' for a moment to tie her hair into a loose ponytail.

"Yeah, especially with all the political ruckus going on," James continued, returning her hand to his. "Have you guys heard about Malfoy Manor? Presumably, some arsonists set it on fire and burned down all the people inside." James looked grave at the loss of life, despite the fact that those who had died were his enemies. Harry felt a surge of respect for his father.

Remus cleared his throat, looking more than slightly uncomfortable. "We- _ahem!_ We might know a bit more than you on that particular subject, actually," he said. James and Lily looked confused for a second before realization crossed their faces at precisely the same time.

"That was you guys?" Lily said in an astonished whisper, her eyebrows raising to her hairline, mouth slightly open.

"We didn't light it on fire!" Remus made haste to explain. "We were there to get the final Horcrux when we were captured—" (Lily gave a sharp intake of breath) "One of the neo-Death Eaters there set it on fire by accident, actually." James and Lily looked the epitome of curious.

Sirius was opening his mouth to explain their entire story when Harry stopped him.

"Actually, guys, I know it might be hard being out of the loop for a while, but could you wait to explain our little journey after I... leave? I only have two hours left in this century, and I would rather spend it talking about things other than my life for the last couple months."

James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily looked totally understanding.

"Of course! Sorry, Harry, I should have..." Sirius started, but Harry once again interrupted.

"It's nothing, Sirius. After all, it is one hell of a story." Sirius grinned in agreement, but didn't feel any need to explain what they meant to their friends.

"How has life in the castle been, Jamesie-boy?" Sirius asked his friend, smiling wider as James scowled at the nickname.

"It's been pretty good. We haven't done much since graduation two weeks ago, though," he admitted, putting in effort not to say anything about his irritating nickname. Sirius and Remus looked a bit saddened at the mention of graduation. Though they technically had graduation certificates, it was a bit disappointing that they hadn't gotten to go to the ceremony.

"James isn't being fair to himself," Lily said, looking at her boyfriend with a mock-scowl. "He got accepted into the Auror Academy two days ago!" The rest of their party shouted and clapped his back with congratulations. It was a big deal to get into there. You had to apply at the beginning of seventh year, do an interview, and complete several physical tests to even be considered. Less than 20% of applicants were accepted.

Harry smiled as Sirius and Remus congratulated their lifelong friend vocally, their loud voices carrying down the unusually quiet hallway. He, of course, had known this would happen. In the original timeline, Sirius and Remus had also been accepted, while Pettigrew had foregone the Auror route and started an apprenticeship at a magical shoemaker's. Harry wondered how the future would be changed by the fact that neither Sirius nor Remus would be Aurors in James' graduation year, if they were still going to be Aurors at all.

There was a good chance they were simply sick of fighting, as Harry had been for the first six months after Voldemort's first defeat at his hand.

"What about you, Lily?" Remus asked his friend, inquiring as to where she had been accepted for her post-Hogwarts job. She blushed and muttered something under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I'm got accepted into an apprenticeship at the Ministry under Julian Locke, the head Charm Designer." Sirius and Remus made noises of disbelief. Lily grinned happily.

"That's amazing, Lily!" Remus said, hugging her. "I'm so glad you got in!"

Harry watched them with detached euphoria. It was enough to see them talking together, without Voldemort in the picture, Horcruxes and all. He didn't have to be part of the picture. In fact, he was glad he wasn't. Harry was almost disappointed when James grabbed him by his robes and dragged him into a group hug, though this feeling soon vanished with the love crushing in upon him from his new-found family, whether they were by blood or not.

The next hour and a half were spent together in the Gryffindor Common Room, laughing by the crackling fire. Jokes and fake insults were thrown, and many pastries eaten. A of deck Exploding Snap cards were taken out of Sirius' pocket (Harry was amazing that he'd apparently carried them around during their entire time adventuring). Lily, unusually, joined in on their game due to taunts by Sirius. By the end, she was the only un-singed one in the circle of sooty faces and scorched eyebrows.

Lily quickly regrew James' eyebrows, claiming she utterly refused to date somebody without eyebrows. Remus regrew his own, though Lily convinced him not to regrow Sirius', which she left alien-like and bare in retribution of his teasing during their game.

Time flew, and Harry had not felt happier for what seemed like ages. All the weight of the world, lightened by the destruction of the last Horcrux, was finally gone. It felt strange to be able to enjoy himself without worrying about anything once again. Over his, Sirius' and Remus' Horcrux Hunt, he had returned to his survival mindset — a frame of mind which had saved his life multiple times throughout his school years, as well as after. However, he could not fully stop his eye from wandering time and time again towards the gold-embossed clock hanging over the Gryffindor Common Room's fireplace as his time in the past ticked away second by second.

First there was an hour left... then forty-five minutes... then half an hour... then twenty... until only a quarter of an hour remained. James, Lily, Remus and Sirius (who also had kept an eye on the time) had quieted, sitting around the fireplace in a loose circle. Lily had foregone her boyfriend's lap and was leaning onto Harry, who wrapped his arm around his young mother, enjoying being in her presence. He had no idea if this was going to be the last time he saw her. It was possible, _very_ possible, in fact, that none of his companions in the Common Room would be the same in the future.

Despite the joy he had gotten out of their minimal remaining time together, Harry sat up, carefully unwrapping his mother's arm from around him. She looked up into his face confused and the tiniest bit hurt.

"I should go say goodbye to Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the professors," Harry said reluctantly. In a similar manner, he wished to see them. Dumbledore in particular. Similarly to James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus, the elderly Headmaster was deceased in the future. This would likely be the last time he ever saw him... twinkling blue eyes, waist-long beard and all.

The five friends walked in companionable silence down towards the Great Hall. James had checked the Marauders Map, and knew that all remaining people in the school (students and staff alike) were congregated there.

Harry looked at the familiar corridors and moving staircases as they walked down to the Great Hall, saying hello to a couple portraits he knew as he passed.

James pushed the door open for their group when they reached the grand, marble staircase. Lily smiled at him lovingly, kissing him on the cheek as he let the door close.

All eyes in the Hall gravitated towards them the second Harry, Sirius and Remus entered. Feeling a bit bad for doing so, Harry ignored the students, walking straight to the staff table. All the teachers were seated in their customary line.

Dumbledore smiled down at Harry, not in the least surprised to see him there. Harry didn't know why he was surprised. The man had an omniscient feel about him when he was within Hogwarts walls.

"Why hello Harry, my dear boy!" Dumbledore said happily, offering Harry a piece of treacle tart. Harry didn't bother to ask how he'd known it was his favorite and took it, chomping down on the familiar berry flavor.

Harry walked down the table, saying hello and shaking the hands of all his professors as they greeted him. Though he was glad to see them (especially those he had gotten to know better in his time in 1977 and 1978) he felt rather chagrined at the celebrity-greeting tone of their voices.

When he'd finally been greeted by the last person at the staff table, Harry allowed his reluctant eyes to hover over the huge, floating clock on the far west wall of the Great Hall.

He had three more minutes.

Banishing any worries he had about what the future would be like, Harry turned back to Sirius, Remus, James, and Lily and smiled at them.

He approached Sirius first.

"Sirius, thank you for becoming so much more than my godfather this year," Harry said quietly enough so no one else heard. "And thank you for coming on the Horcrux hunt with me, even when James stayed. If I were in your place, I don't know if I would have been able to do that."

"Harry, I was just-"

"No, you were the best friend I could have asked for. You have saved my life countless times, and kept me sane here in 1978." If Harry's eyes weren't deceiving him, Sirius' eyes became a little more wet. Sirius quickly wiped them with he back of his hand and wrapped Harry into a tight hug, slapping his back with his large hands. Harry returned his godfather and friend's hug and reluctantly moved onto Remus.

"Remus..." Harry started, equally quiet, so only Remus could hear him. "Thank you for keeping Sirius and I on task during the entire Horcrux Hunt, and letting me know you so much better. Back in my time, I don't think I appreciated you enough for the person you are."

Remus smiled. "Harry, you don't have to thank me. We should be the ones thanking you. You saved us from Voldemort, helped get James and Lily together and so, so much more." Harry grinned nostalgically.

"I do have a habit of doing that sort of thing," he admitted playfully. Remus grabbed him into a hug, taking Harry's breath away with its superhuman strength.

Third, Harry talked to James. For a second, he didn't know where to start. In a way, he hadn't gotten to know him as well as Sirius and Remus, and yet he and Harry's mother were possibly the best part of time traveling.

"Dad, I... I love you," Harry said, unsure of how his father would take it. James' eyes filled with tears as he grabbed Harry, pulling Harry into what seemed like the millionth (but was the most meaningful so far) embrace he had received that day. "I'm sorry I had to leave to find the Horcruxes... I wish we could have spent more time together while I was here." James smiled, his mouth quivering the smallest amount.

"I'll see you in the future, though, won't I?" He said consolingly. "Harry, thank you for helping me get together with Lily... your mother." He added the maternal part as an afterthought, grinning foolishly at the title. "You may technically be my son, but you know so much more than me about life, love... just about everything." Harry smiled slightly at the irony.

"You're right, dad. I will see you soon." Harry was resolved to keep this in mind, not letting him weaken into second guessing himself. He gave his father one last, lingering hug before he finally moved onto his mother, Lily.

Without speaking a word, Lily grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down to her height and looking him straight in the eyes. Their green eyes stared into each other, the identical almond eyes memorizing each crease, each freckle, and each eyelash on the other's face.

"I love you, Harry," she said quietly, too quiet for anybody but him to hear. Harry melted into her arms, hugging her with equal fervor. This was his mother. _My mother... my mother! _It was a strange thought in itself, having a mother. But to have her right here... it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. This was the person who had (or would someday) give birth to him, and raise him as an infant The person who had died for him. Tears rose up into his eyes, and he determinedly wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"This isn't going to be the last time I see you," Harry said, determined. For the first time, he truly believed that this was true. If whatever entity was up there was so cruel as to rip his mother away after he'd just, finally, connected with her... well. He didn't know what he would do, but it would likely be violent.

Lily nodded in agreement and waved her wand. The time flashed midair in neon green. He had twenty seconds. Harry gulped, and looked around him, taking in Hogwarts.

_Ten seconds..._

Harry's mother, father, godfather, and honorary godfather crowded around him, hugging him tight. Harry had never felt so loved.

_Eight seconds..._

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Dumbledore and McGonagall sitting side by side at the Head's table, smiling at their group hug.

_Five seconds..._

Harry closed his eyes tight, content to have his family's faces be the last thing he saw in this decade. The black surrounded him. His stomach clenched in preparation of what was to come. The bodies around him held him tighter.

_Three seconds..._

Izlanzi appeared above his shoulder, clasping onto his shoulder with a strong grip, turning into a mouse and burrowing into the crick of his neck.

_One second... _

Harry was going to be fine. I'm going to be fine. _Everyone will still be alive when I return_, he thought in a mantra.

_Zero seconds. _

_I hope..._

And without even a flash of light, or a single sound, Harry Potter vanished from the year 1978.

**END OF CHAPTER**

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this... the last chapter where Harry in in 1978! Wow... I can't believe there's only going to be one more chapter! Well, there is a slight chance of there being two more. It all depends on how the story progresses. I swear it seems to write itself sometimes!

On another note, I'm sorry this has gotten out so late! Spring sports started up, as well as a large school project, and other commitments. I hope to update soon, but I don't have any promises!

As ever, reviews are much appreciated.


	34. The End

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Enjoy the last (non-epilogue) chapter of "Just My Luck." I'm sorry, but I've already decided that there will be NO sequel to this story. I've written sequels before on other accounts, and let me tell you, it gets boring. Sorry, but this story is the only story related to this I will write.

**Chapter Thirty-Four: The End**

Before he had ever stepped into Minerva McGonagall's office to accept her proposal so long ago, Harry had never dreamt of anything even vaguely similar to the circumstances he found himself in at the moment. This, not worries and pressures, was what he thought of has his body's molecules were pulled back and forth between time and space, sucked in some unknown direction as if through a vacuum.

And yet despite all the time and energy he had put into being concerned over the outcome of the future, Harry was calm. Visions of his friends and family from 1977 flitted unbidden across his consciousness, faces clashing with ideas and vibrant colors.

The trip was longer than the one going into the past. But perhaps that was purely mental. Harry didn't know. His body was relaxed, being pulled by an unseen force.

Then, with a sudden and unprecedented jolt, Harry had completed his journey.

Harry was lying on some sort of floor, he could tell. Indoors. He kept his eyes closed as he enjoyed the last seconds, then minutes, and eventually nearly an hour that he was unaware of what his blundering in the past had surely cost humanity.

Finally, with an aged sigh, Harry sat up, his eyes still closed. The space around him was silent. If there had been people talking, or any noise at all really, circumstances would have been different. Harry would have stayed there. But it was quiet, and due to this, Harry worried.

Harry opened his eyes.

At first, he couldn't tell where he was. It had been nearly a year since he'd been in this room, and to call his life since then hectic would have been an understatement. Harry allowed himself a weak sliver of a smile. It was Hermione and his living room.

It wasn't as if he hadn't known she was still in a relationship with him. Last he'd seen her, she was in the Room of Requirements in 1977, after he'd made changes to the past. It was only common sense that dictated that she would be (as far as he knew) unaffected.

Harry stood up, his legs shaking uncontrollably. He straightened out and looked around himself, examining every single thing around him. To be honest, it was almost exactly the same.

There was Hermione and his wedding picture, their DA galleons, the Marauder's Map... the list of mementos went on an on. Strangely, everything seemed to be the same.

Harry ripped his eyes from the moving photograph to survey the rest of the house. Tentatively, he called out. "Hello?" There was no answer. "Is anybody home? Hermione? Star?"

Still, no answer. He put two fingers in his mouth and emitted an earsplitting whistle (his special call for Star, their dog) but there was no trademark scuffling of nails on their floor, no lolling tongue. Harry gulped.

Walking slowly, he toured his house.

It was almost identical to how he'd left it. Sure, there were new books, new photographs (around half of which he did not recognize in the slightest: the first change) and even a bit of new furniture, but other than that, his house was strangely similar. This comforted and yet disturbed him.

Finally, after over a quarter hour of just snooping around his own property, Harry walked out the door of his house. The sun was blinding to Harry's oversensitive eyes, and he shielded them with a hand. The yard in the front, too, was the same. The calf-length wild grass, the ancient and stunted, apple trees out front... everything. A large Muggle family full of rowdy boys walked down the street in front of him, unaware that their house was even there.

The Man Who Conquered shuffled uncertainly out onto the sun-bleached porch, still looking around for some horrible, cosmic difference.

Finally, Harry knew he had to stop looking around his house. He needed to leave his Muggle street and go into the wizarding world if he was to see the real changes. Harry grimaced, though he'd known the entire time that this was inevitable. Thoughtlessly placing a silencing charm on himself before leaving the wards, Harry stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked around. There was no one in sight, the Muggle family having long since moved on. Then, without a single sound, he disappeared into thin air.

Harry was sucked through time and space in scientifically impossible speeds towards his destination, Diagon Alley. He half-hoped that he would somehow get lost in Apparition, and end up going back to 1978, which had become his pseudo-home in the past 10 months. However, he dissuaded himself from this wish halfway through thinking it. He had to face this like the man he had become.

Harry appeared soundlessly in front of Ollivander's wand shop, facing the ancient store. The familiar shop stared back at him, the dusty purple cushion with the single wand still intact as if had hadn't been abandoned for the better part of a year while Ollivander had been kidnapped by Voldemort. Somehow, this similarity was the most comforting thing he could have imagined seeing. The Man Who Conquered turned around, not letting himself over-think this.

The street was bustling, brightly-robed witches and wizards chatting to their friends and family as they peered into the fantastical shop windows. A spell flashed through the air to Harry's right, and his hand leaped to his pocket, where his wand was situated, expecting an attack. After all, the last time he'd been in the Diagon Alley area, Peter Pettigrew had been viciously attacking he, Sirius, and Remus.

But no, a second later the blue light was backed up by a screeching, blonde mother berating her young twin daughters, one of whom was holding a wand that very obviously didn't belong to her.

Harry didn't relinquish his grip on his wand, letting his wide robe sleeve cover it as he joined the masses, letting himself be pulled by the tide of the crowd, looking for differences. For the first time, he truly entertained the idea that nothing could have changed. The thought was both hopeful and terrifying. Was it possible that the universe had simply erased his presence in 1977 and 1978, leaving the Wizarding World exactly as it had been when he'd left? Probable? Harry thought not. But possible... certainly.

"Excuse me, mister, could you help me... find..." a young female voice trilled next to him. Harry turned to his right, looking down at a young, dark-haired girl of Asiatic decent. Her question stuttered to a halt as she looked up at him, her wide brown eyes filling up a disproportionate part of her face. "You're... you're..." she muttered almost to herself. "You're Harry Potter!" Almost out of habit, Harry stiffened, expecting either paparazzi or Death Eaters to appear (though he truly wasn't sure which he preferred).

"Yes, I am indeed," Harry stated in a formal tone, smiling at her. The young girl (Harry suspected she was a second or third year at Hogwarts) looked beyond dumbstruck as she stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. Harry was half amused, half alarmed. "Are you oka-"

"You're Harry Potter!" she whispered again. Harry supposed he should be happy she was the quietly surprised type. Over the years of dealing with "fans," he had learned that there were two types of Potter-freaks. There were the type that screamed bloody murder when they saw him, clutching at their hearts and alerting everyone and their dog within a five mile radius that he was there. Second, there were the quiet ones, who just stared. Though this was often more convenient (though unfortunately rather rare), they often did this for amazing periods of time without blinking.

Harry nodded.

"But you've been in the past!" she remarked, as if this cancelled any argument for his current location. Harry's mind raced. When he'd left, his trip to the past was not common knowledge. For it to be now, one of two things had to have happened.

Option one. The information was leaked to the press, either by somebody looking for their 15 minutes of fame, overly-investigative reporters, or accidentally.

Or option two. Enough change had been made to the 21st century that the truth had needed to be revealed to stop general chaos.

Harry wasn't quite sure which one he was hoping for. Harry looked down at the girl. She stared up, her hesitance and timid demeanor gone and turned into curiosity. Gulping, Harry braced himself to ask blunt questions.

"So what has changed because of me being in the past?" Harry asked. She looked up at him curiously, as if she was trying to decide if he were quizzing her, or actually didn't know.

"Well," she started to say, "- I don't know all of the latest changes, there's too many to keep up wi-" but halfway through her sentence, Harry was forced to stop listening. Literally.

A body mass hit him from the left, making him stumble and very nearly topple over. He windmilled his arms to keep balance frantically, grasping for his wand.

"Harry!" the female voice cried out. Harry relaxed, a huge smile raising to his lips. He knew this voice.

"H-Hermione?" he stuttered, trying to get a look of who was hugging him. His wife's wavy brown hair stuck out of a loose pony tail, her eyes watery.

"Harry... it really is you! We were so worried when you didn't reappear back at the forest of Dean... that's where we thought you would be! I mean, you appeared there, so it was only logical that-" she was rambling, but Harry didn't mind in the least. He would spend all day listening to her ramble, if he could.

He bent down, hugging her back and kissing her briefly.

"And... and..." Hermione kept stuttering, tears streaming from her eye. "Oh Harry we all missed you so much." Though she had started loudly, her voice had slowly become a whisper, smiling as she wrapped her arms around him.

"I missed you too... I love you," Harry whispered back.

They stood there in the middle of Diagon Alley for... well... Harry didn't know how long before they managed to come back to their senses. Harry looked down. The little girl had long since wandered back to her parents, and (by some miracle) people hadn't yet realized that the two people making a spectacle were in fact the Man Who Conquered and his partner in crime/wife, Hermione Potter.

"Come on," Hermione whispered, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the crowd. Harry allowed himself to be dragged, not paying attention to anybody he bumped into or any stores — despite their purposeful distractions. In what seemed like seconds, but must have been almost a quarter of an hour, they arrived. Harry recognized the place they were in. It was Hermione's favorite coffee shop in the magical world, "The Rolling Galleon."

Everything seemed to be happening so fast. He'd just gotten back to the future (somehow saying this mentally seemed funny... he suspected it was a muggle band he half-remembered) and now he was already with his wife after what had been far too long. However, he still couldn't bring himself to fully enjoy what was happening.

He paused before speaking. "Hermione-" he said, but she seemed to know what he was going to ask. She smiled reminiscently at him, holding his hands across the little table in the empty coffee shop.

"Your friends and family always were your first priority, weren't they Harry?" she said, laughing a little under her breath. His breath caught. Did she think that he wasn't worried enough about her?

"No, you are my first pri-" Harry's wife laughed, squeezing his hand.

"You may have forgotten, Harry, but I do count myself under 'family,' now," she teased. Harry flushed a bit, but urged her to continue. She sighed.

"A lot has changed since you've last been here, Harry," she said, looking out the window and leaning back in her seat. Her chocolate brown eyes clouded a bit and a strand of curly hair fell across her face.

"For better or for worse?" questioned Harry apprehensively, licking his dry lips. She didn't even have to think about it.

"Almost all for better," she reassured. Harry's heart felt as if a thousand kilogram weight had just been lifted off his chest. He released tense muscles that he hadn't even realized he'd been clenching, practically melting into his seat.

A distracted waitress delivered their drinks — a chai tea for her and a cappuccino for him. Harry barely even noticed, though Hermione picked hers up, sipping thoughtfully.

"To be honest, I can't say that I expected your trip to the past to go completely without effects. But the most I expected was perhaps a few people changing jobs, or small things like that. And I hadn't really put any thought into how these changes would take effect. I figured that they would just seamlessly pop into existence."

Harry could practically feel the 'but' about to happen.

"But that's not exactly what happened. If you think about it, it makes sense."

"What?" Harry said, unable to let her get to the point so slowly any longer. "What happened? Who's alive? Did anybody disappear, or die, or—"

She looked him up and down, as if trying to figure out how it was best to explain. "Yes, people are alive. And nobody 'died,' as you implied, though there are those who are not the same. Many who are not the same. And not everybody came back to life."

"Who?" Harry asked, focusing (as usual) on the bad rather than the good. She took a deep breath, and began to list names.

"Well, first of all, your father and mother are alive," (Harry's mind flat lined) "- as are Sirius, Remus, Regulus Black, Tonks, Cedric Diggory, the Longbottoms, Quirrell, Bertha Jorkins, Marlene McKinnon, Mad-Eye Moody, Dobby, and Snape. Those are the only people who just randomly came back to life. Or at least we think. Seamus is in Romania right now doing reconnaissance to see if Gregorovitch — the wandmaker, remember? — is alive as well."

But Harry's mind had stopped working the second she'd finished listing names. Was it really possible that so many things had gone right, for once? Sirius, his father and mother, the Longbottoms, Cedric. Even Dobby and Snape! And he was sure there were dozens more they weren't aware of. So far they all seemed to be people killed by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, which was far more extensive than the eleven-person list Hermione had named.

But before he had the chance to question her further she continued in a more grave tone.

"However, the circumstances of their... arrivals here aren't as you may have hoped, Harry. Let's see... it's hard to explain." She paused for a second, collecting her thoughts. "You see, though they are still mostly the people you know and love, they died at very different time periods. Therefore, they were returned to the bodies they had when they died."

Harry was horrified. Did that mean they all looked like zombies? Hermione saw his face and chuckled, her nose scrunching up. "No, not like you're thinking. I mean in terms of their ages."

Harry stared at her blankly, not understanding.

"Here's an example. Well, because your parents were 21 when they died, they're 21 now, with memories of his life until their death, including dying. However, Sirius is 36, his dying age, and Remus is 38. Likewise, Cedric is 17." Harry blinked, unsure of how to comprehend this.

He tried to imagine the 21-year-old James joking around with a 36-year-old Sirius and 38 -year-old Remus, and consequently failed miserably. He thought around the consequences experimentally, weighing pros and cons.

The largest obvious downside was the... well... strangeness of the whole ordeal. It would be strange for him, the people who had come back to life, and just about everybody else who had ever known them even for a short while. And, of course, there was the question of whether or not they remembered their time with Harry in 1977 and 1978. Not to mention if they remembered the past as it had been with Harry's change, or how it had originally been.

Harry was getting a headache from the complexity of it all.

Over the course of the next hour, the truth slowly trickled out. Several other newly resurrected names came to Hermione, including Molly Weasley's brothers — Fabian and Gideon, and Colin Creevy.

From what it seemed to Harry, the characters of the past had simply... appeared in current times after their deaths. They remembered Harry's time at Hogwarts (to his utmost relief), and the vastly different lifestyle members of the English wizarding community had lived after Voldemort and all his horcruxes had been demolished. However, this was not all they remembered.

Though they had perfect recollection of their lives with Voldemort being killed by Harry in 1978, they also remembered the version of their life in which Harry, Ron, and Hermione had spent the vast majority of their lives. The reality where Sirius had spent 12 years in Azkaban; where Voldemort had been barely alive, biding his time before rising; where Remus had lived in self-inflicted solitude for years after James and Lily's deaths.

Harry, for what felt like the millionth time, wasn't sure how to feel. He felt sorry for Sirius (he'd truly hoped to erase his memories of Azkaban forever), but on the same track, he was immensely relieved that his godfather remembered his and Harry's relationship until then. It was the same story with all the rest of the newly risen.

Then, suddenly, a thought occurred to Harry. He frowned slightly in contemplation, folding lines of worry appearing on the corners of his down-turned lips.

"Hermione," he said, very nearly thinking out loud. "What about Dumbledore?" Now that he thought about it, Albus Dumbledore's name was one of the few people she hadn't mentioned. Hermione's eyes stared at the scuffed wood flooring of the cafe, tightening her grip around her barely lukewarm chai tea.

"He didn't come back, Harry," she finally said. Harry sighed. Some part of him had known this would happen.

"But why?" Harry said, beseeching her for an answer he knew she could not give him. Her eyes softened as she worried her lip, scratching the back of her hand absentmindedly.

"He was old, Harry," she said at last. "We don't know for sure, but a small team and I met to discuss his lack of reanimation, and we believe that his life would have been over by now anyways, and therefore he did not return."

Harry smiled faintly, resisting the urge to release a strained laugh. "It would be just like Dumbledore to deny the chance to return to life, too," he said. "'The next great adventure,' he always called it."

Hermione leaned over the table distancing them, squeezing his right hand between her two smaller ones.

"I love you," she said with conviction. The sound of her lowered, secretive voice spoke volumes in itself, words not withstanding. Harry looked back at his wife. For the first time, he really allowed himself to compare her with the woman he had left behind, and admit that she was different.

She was still the Hermione Potter nee-Granger that the loved, but she had grown physically and mentally. Her hair was longer, her fingernails manicured. For some event he hadn't been able to attend, no doubt. She was wearing a flowing shirt he had never seen beneath her embroidered dark blue robes.

Yes, Hermione Potter had changed while he had been away. Harry just didn't want to admit it. The largest change, however strangely jarring the little ones had been, was in her eyes. When Harry had left for 1977 in the beginning of the previous year she had been just recovering from the war, but now her eyes held a new lightness in them.

Her pain acquired during the first Horcrux-hunt escapade had diminished into acceptance. A tiny glint of joy was visible in the corner of her eye, and it was the first time since third year at Hogwarts that joy seemed to be a constant fixture in her life. Harry smiled weakly.

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the day alone together for the first time in nearly a year. They talked, ate, walked, and even went shopping. And for Harry, this was the best possible outcome of his returning day. He wasn't quite ready to resume all the responsibilities he'd claimed by being himself just yet. Being head of the Auror Department, and the first time traveler of more than a few hours was taxing. Being able to relax with his wife was wonderful beyond compare. However, even in his relaxed state, there was a foreboding feel to the day. Harry knew that in just a few hours, the simple day he'd been having would be gone.

And so it was.

Finally, around 6:30PM, as he and Hermione were stepping out of a newly released Muggle movie he knew it was time to pick up the weight of being Harry Potter once again.

However, figuring out the oddities of the time travel escapade would come first, far before the Ministry. So, together, he and Hermione apparated to the Burrow. Though none of the Weasley children still resided in the Weasley house, it was somewhat of a base for communication and socialization of the Order of the Phoenix. (Which, technically, was still together — though now its purposes were more similar to a club than a fighting organization.)

As they were plopped in front of the aging house, Harry was struck with a strange reminiscent feeling. He had been here barely a month ago with Sirius and Remus, in 1977, just before leaving to acquire the locket Horcrux. It was relatively recent, and yet it felt as if a million years had passed since Mrs. Weasley had shoved clattering vials of potion into his arms as he stepped out of the latched gate of their house. It looked the same, albeit with peeling paint, different chickens, and less garden gnomes. It was more than a little strange to be back.

Hermione clasped his hand in hers wordlessly, and they opened the gate. Harry could feel the wards as he stepped through the gate, brushing his hand against a monstrously large lavender plant which Arthur Weasley had convinced his wife to plant when he had been in a faze of Muggle Herbology.

The door opened before they had even climbed the rickety, boot-covered steps. The brass handle clanged against the nearby window frame and an extremely frazzled Molly Weasley stepped out, pushing the screen door out of the way. For a second she stood there on the stoop, looking down at Harry and Hermione with a look of wonder and love. Then, she screamed. The screech was drawnout and earsplitting. It was by no means the first time Harry had heart her yell this loudly. It was, however, the first time he'd ever seen her faint afterwards.

Her body fell to the floor, the blow softened by a cushioning charm Hermione had cast in a quick bit of spellwork. What sounded like a herd of elephants were coming in from all corners of the Burrow towards the door, the creaky house practically swaying as all its inhabitants converged to the doorway up in arms, their wands outstretched and ready to battle.

The first person to make it there was Ron. For a second, he stared at Harry and Hermione. Then, a huge smile dawned over his freckled face as he bounded down the steps and pulled them into a hug tighter than Harry had ever received.

"Harry James Potter, you complete arse!" he bellowed, half congenial and half enraged. "Not only do you go back in time without me, again, but you make a huge mess for us at the Ministry — leaving Kingsley and I to fix it up for you!" Harry's oldest friend slapped him on the back several times, his bearlike hands rattling Harry's bones. Harry honest to God couldn't tell if Ron was happy to see him or just angry.

Then, a torrent of people came rushing down the steps, pushing themselves down into the garden pathway until nearly 20 people were involved in a huge hug, yelling a mixture of complaints and statements of how much they'd missed him.

Everybody seemed to be there, conveniently enough. Not only was the entire Weasley posse present (even Bill and Charlie, though Harry wasn't sure why they were there), but Neville, Luna, McGonagall, Mundungus Fletcher and more. Even, Harry noted, quite a few people who hadn't been alive when he had left. James, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Moody, and several others were there as well, beaming at him from the outskirts of the circle.

Still shouting and embracing Harry jovially, the procession slowly made its way inside the Burrow. The modestly sized living room was packed to its burst point, people spilling over into the adjoining hallways as they tried to get closer to Harry. Harry, understandably, was quite overwhelmed; this feeling only increasing as he saw the normally mild tempered Minerva McGonagall shoving an enraged Mad Eye Moody into the broom cupboard as she tried to push her way to the front.

Sometime after Hagrid had shown up (breaking the Weasley's door frame in his haste to enter the Burrow) somebody seemed to have decided that enough was enough. Though Harry was unaware of who cast the spell, the living room suddenly expanded, multiplying to about three times its previous size. Finally, people settled into their places, piling into conjured chairs around Harry. The Man Who Conquered got the distinct feeling that he was a primary school teacher during story time, all the eagerly listening figures staring up at him in wonder.

Ron was sitting at the chair directly to his right, reclining with a relaxed grin on his face. The usually normal situation was made strange by the fact that a very disgruntled, 17-year-old Cedric Diggory was sitting on the ground by his feet — the latest arrival in their not so little group.

Harry sighed. This was going to take a while.

And sure enough, it did.

Though he had been filled in on what had happened by Hermione (for the most part) little gaps in his knowledge were filled up... how Arthur Weasley was doing as Minister, new relationships (Ginny and Cedric were apparently getting along surprisingly well), and more. Harry was taken aback, again, by how many things had changed.

The big things, he had thought of — to say the least. ("Thought of," in this instance, meaning worried and fretted over.) However, he had almost managed to forget the little things he had changed. Silly things, which somehow managed to strike him to the bone. For example, George had grown a beard, and a rather long one at that. Not to mention that, as it turned out, Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Death Eater offspring were fine.

As some of the only people who didn't have a second "past," they were some of the only ones totally unchanged by Harry's journey.

Harry had never been so happy to be wrong.

Finally, after he'd been mostly filled in about the goings on, he began his tale. Though in the beginning, he had told them that it was long and they were all free to go leave any time they wished, for some reason he couldn't fathom, they all seemed in rapture of his journeys. Though Sirius, James, and Remus (who Harry hadn't yet really talked to yet) seemed to have filled them in on most things, there were several rather large pieces of memory missing. His battle with Voldemort. The particulars of the Fiendfyre incident in Malfoy Manor, and more.

Though he had told himself to shorten it up, the Man Who Conquered had soon found himself unable to just skip over things without protest that he should explain further. To his chagrin, the whole history of his trip back in time took over two hours to fully explain; complete with interjections from the resurrected and questions.

Finally, after estranged congratulations (though for what, Harry wasn't quite sure. It wasn't like this was his first time beating Voldemort), people finally started trickling away little by little until finally it was only Harry, the Weasleys (minus Bill, Charlie, and Percy), Hermione, the Resurrected (as he had taken to calling them in his mind), and a few final stragglers.

Ron and Hermione were talking with him in a relaxed manner. As his oldest friends, they knew that he didn't want to talk about the difference in time periods any more. And for that, Harry was beyond thankful. He just wanted to get a nice cup of tea, and then go to bed. Hermione interlaced her fingers with his and squeezed their palms together, mentally comforting him and telling him to pull through.

Cedric and Ginny stepped forward them next. It was beyond strange seeing Cedric alive and well again, and seventeen to boot. Cedric looked Harry up and down silently. It occurred to Harry that he was really the only person here (excluding the Marauders and Lily) who hadn't really known him as a person when he had been attending Hogwarts.

"I can't believe you're older than me," Cedric confided at last, running a hand through his hair. Harry chuckled.

"We're the same height now, too," he commented, straightening his back. It was light conversation, and Harry was glad they were having it. It was a welcome break from all the importance of recent events. They chatted amicably for a few minutes; Cedric commenting astonishedly on events that had happened after his death: "I still can't believe you killed Voldemort twice!" and a faux-casual, "So... I hear you dated Cho after I died" being most prevalent.

Though Harry had gone through a mini-seizure when he heard the second comment and started stuttering incomprehensibly, Cedric had just laughed it off.

"It's fine, Harry. Cho's engaged now, anyways. Also, I'm quite over her."

He snaked his hand down into Ginny's. She looked up at him with a look in her sepia eyes he had never seen during their brief stint of dating. Harry supposed it was fated that Cedric would end up with his old girlfriend, after Harry had done the same with Cho Chang. Harry smiled, genuinely glad for the two of them.

They talked for a couple more minutes, Hermione joining in to discuss the latest of her Charms creation work with a fascinated Cedric. Finally, they meandered off under the pretense of helping Molly make hot chocolate, as the poor, aging woman was quite overwhelmed, making food for all the unexpected visitors.

Ron and Luna cycled back towards them. Luna broke away from her place under Ron's arm and quite unabashedly ran towards Harry, enveloping him in a bear hug with strength disproportionate to her rather frail figure. Her nearly white blonde hair, longer than ever, was tied into four pigtails, a pair of red, triangular glasses perched upon her ski jump nose.

"Thank you, Harry," she said sincerely, stepping back towards Ron and smoothing her sunflower yellow dress back into place. "For everything."

"... what?" Harry said rather stupidly, not getting her point. Hermione chuckled.

"You would be the one to forget how and why you originally travelled into the past, wouldn't you?" she laughed again in an affectionate, teasing manner. Harry flushed. He'd almost forgotten that his original reason for time travelling had been to prove Luna's theory.

"Did it help your cause?" Harry asked, hoping at least that issue had been solved by his long escape into the past. Luna nodded very quickly and excitedly.

"Yes, it helped very much. The patent for the spell I used has been sold to St. Mungo's to use to help in fixing botched surgeries." She gave a secretive smile. "However, I only gave them the spell that will take you back around a day. No more decade skipping for anybody."

Harry nodded in fervent agreement. As much good (and strangeness) his trip to the past had cost, he wouldn't wish that confusion upon anyone.

"Your little trip already caused enough trouble for a decade, anyways," Ron said congenially, punching Harry lightly in the shoulder. Harry laughed, glad he hadn't been around to see the chaos the Ministry had surely been in.

People began trickling out of the Burrow more quickly now. Cedric and Ginny left, followed by Luna (who needed to water the new shipment of Honking Hydrangeas she had gotten imported from Australia), though Ron remained with Harry and Hermione.

Even Molly, finally giving up on making food and leaving the kitchen open for the guest's own devices, had giveen Harry a last hug and retired up to her room. Tonks left (after a goodbye kiss to Remus, Teddy — whom the couple had taken full responsibility of — resting on her hip), followed shortly by Moody, who was grumbling something about needing to check his Disillusionment Detection Modules.

Finally, it was just Harry, Hermione, Ron, Lily, and the Marauders. Somehow, Harry had not yet talked to them. Perhaps he'd been mentally avoiding them, for fear of the pure strangeness of their group. And they were indeed a strange little band.

Then, Sirius, Remus, James, and Lily stepped forth as a cohesive unit. Their group was, no doubt, by far the most confusing thing Harry had seen since he had returned. Each at their death-age, they were a rag-tag group. James and Lily (thankfully) were the same age, but they were the only ones. Remus, 38, and Sirius, 36, were estranged from their youthfulness. James, especially seemed to be taking it hard.

Gone were the friends he'd had in his new-found adulthood. The friends with infinite optimism and years upon years ahead of them to live. Instead, he had one friend who had spent 12 years in Azkaban, and another who had been shifting back and forth from homelessness and extreme poverty for the same 12 years, all the while dealing with his lycanthropic status.

Harry rather pitied his father. No doubt he was confused and extremely sad over this development. Lily, though she still felt the burn sadness over Sirius and Remus, was less effected by the strange change in ages of Sirius and Remus. However, she her eyes were rimmed with red. She had been the only person to leave during Harry's story, having to take several trips to the bathroom along with James. Harry had no doubt that she was trying over something. However, he wasn't exactly sure what.

As Sirius, Remus, James and Lily approached, he racked his brain to try and figure it out. Then, it hit him like a speeding thestral. It was him. Harry. The last his parents had seen of him, he was just a year and a half old, and they had been protecting him from death — giving up their lives to save him.

And now, who they had known to be their son was gone, transformed into the Harry Potter they had known in 1977. James had been more prepared for this than Lily, and (though his eyes were very red as well) he was taking it slightly better out of sheer mental preparation. Having known Harry better in his time during the 1970s, he had surely gathered what his young son's future would be like and accepted that he would never get to raise his son.

Harry felt an intense burst of compassion and sorrow for his parents and all they had given up. In short, they had given up their child for the prospect of winning the war against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. They had allowed their son tbecome an adult in what (to them) seemed like just a day. They would never get to truly be his parents again.

"Hello, Harry," Sirius said, breaking the silence. His voice was different than the voice Harry had gotten accustomed to. When Sirius' voice had been that of a man just barely breaking away from adolescence. "Nice to see you again, as strange as circumstance may be."

He and Sirius hugged tightly.

Their relationship was a strange one now, no doubt about it. Sirius had known Harry both as a godson, and as a friend who he had spent the better part of four months on the road with. Remus grinned and pulled the two into a hug. It was less awkward with Remus, as Harry hadn't known him nearly as well before he'd died the Battle of Hogwarts.

Harry blinked. He was confusing even himself. In Sirius' ear, he whispered,

"How are James and Lily holding up, with my — erm . . . circumstances?" Sirius sobered, and snuck a look at Lily, who was crying unabashedly once again, leaning on James and clutching what looked like a blue baby blanket in her hands.

"As hard as it may be to hear, Harry," Remus whispered, patting him on the back, "I don't think it would be good for Lily and James to talk to you right now. They're glad to see the Harry they knew in Hogwarts, but the loss of their one-year-old son Harry is too much." Harry nodded, understanding, though a tiny bit disappointed.

Quickly, Harry decided to make his intentions for them known.

"If you two wish to go to sleep, I'm sure the Weasleys will let you use one of their children's old bedrooms," he said softly. Lily sobbed again, burrowing her head into James' sleeve. James nodded.

"That sounds good," he said. His voice was rough and gravely, cracking halfway through. Normally, James would have joked about this, but now he just let it slide, his normally life-filled eyes dull and monochromatic.

Ron showed them upstairs, helping them to retire into the first available empty bedroom; Percy's old room.

Hermione rested her head against Harry's shoulder, worn out by the day. Even the small motions she made calmed Harry down exponentially. Everything was going to be all right, he could just tell. It might take long nights filling out paperwork fixing things with the Ministry, or making speeches to the public. It might take even longer for Lily and James to accept him, or rather him as the son they had know.

But for the first time in what seemed like ages, Harry had all the time in the world.

**The End**

_**Important Notice:**_

_Though I have tried (mostly successfully) to explain everything to the best of my ability, if things are very unclear, or if you want to hear about how certain character turned out, etc, please review or message me with a little note. _

_I have really enjoyed writing this story, and I hope you have enjoyed reading it. _

_Thank you for reading:_

_~ ScribbleWorld_


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